till we meet again
A Working Connection
Visiting Angels was the name of the homemaker/companion agency where I’d recently started working. I could use a visit from an angel myself, I thought as I drove over to see Cal, one of my new clients.
Cal and I were still getting to know one another, but I told him what was on my mind that morning. Since my brother Al had died from heart failure, I missed him every day: his jokes, his larger-than-life smile, the way he always saw me as his little sister. “He was one of a kind,” I told Cal over coffee.
“I’m just
