My aunt Connie, my dad’s baby sister, was in her late 80s. (Her hands looked exactly like his; I often caught myself staring at them.) She was one of those old people who criticized everything and never seemed to like any of the Christmas presents we gave her. She’d shrug and say, “Eh. It’s okay.” But when I gave her this CD, and put it on her little CD boombox, she smiled and said, “This is nice.” That was the last time I saw her before she died.