Mother's brother Babe Shaw and his wife Francis
One of my fondest memories of my childhood, was that usually on Friday nights, my aunt and uncle would pop over, and we’d all go out. Nothing fancy, but we’d try out the new restaurants that had opened, or simplyh one we hadn’t been to yet.
Not all were good, in fact most were either just okay, or simply not a place to go to, again. It was that bad!
It was fun, and different. Every weekend was an adventure, and I remember how we would wait for Dad to get home from work. How he would come in tired, or if he was already home from working the morning shift, how he’d be resting or something, and be the one who always needed coaxing to go.
Odd, because I always think of my Dad as being the one who was out there, who was the ‘people person’ while Mom was the more reserved, shy one. Yet she was always the one ready to go, who would cajole Dad into getting dressed, and coming along.
Yet he was the life of the party too. I mean it is strange out that worked out.
