My daughter has a good friend. There’s a bit of an age gap — perhaps about 50 years — but neither one seems to notice or care.
Her name is Robin, and she was formerly in a relationship with my Dad, who passed last September. She and my Dad met by way of his cousin, my second cousin. CP and I met her two years ago when she and my father came to visit, bearing a stuffed bunny and some homemade carrot cake muffins. She won both of our hearts with these gifts. (What can I say? We’re easy.)