Sunny was my cousin. Sunny was also my Best Friend for Life.
Sunny helped me grow and grow up.
She took me to my first play, Flower Drum Song, when I was 10.
She let me read her Cosmopolitan magazines and was there for me after my after my first kiss.
She expanded my cultural horizons by taking me to historical sites, natural wonders, galleries, and museums - including literally dragging me up the ramp of the Virginia Museum to see the mummy (because I pestered her to take me and got scared and then was very proud and fascinated.)
Sunny was my role model.
She had a white Ford convertible with bucket seats. I had a white Ford Mustang with bucket seats.
She attended VCU. I attended VCU.
She toured Europe. Me too.
She worked to help people read. I became a librarian.
She got her husband Henry secondhand. I got my husband Dan secondhand.
Sunny and I both loved being on the water. From childhood onward, Sunny’s place at Bena Point on the York River was paradise. Like Sunny, I retired and now live at the “Bena Point of the Pacific.” I won’t be at the services, but on Saturday I will wear my Venetian glass necklace that Sunny brought back as a gift from her European adventure with Ann (Sunny’s true BFF) and my blue Roxbury tie dye T-shirt to walk the beach and gaze at the waxing “Bena moon.”
I wasn’t lucky in getting step-children, but I am very grateful that Sunny did. My deepest condolences to all the Lynns.