Mumblings from New England

I arrived at Connecticut with a place close to New Haven as the base. After a boring train journey I was off to a happy dinner. There was this lady in midfifties narrating her life. An adopted child who never knew who her parents were until many years later she came to know her mom was a nun. A Catholic nun. Her dad was a Catholic priest. She was telling her dad never knew he had a daughter and died without knowing that. While she was telling her story, I was ripping through Ribye and garden greens in the adjacent table. Truth, at times, is closer than it appears.