I always loved my Aunt Anita Brill, although she was not sweet. But as my cousin 
Joan stressed to me, Anita was sentimental to the extreme and would cry at the drop 
of a pin.

Aunt Anita at 70
Sung to the tune of I'm Looking Over a Four Leaf Clover

Who could be sweeter
Then dear Anita
The apple of our eye.

The moment you meet her
You simply could eat her
Oh no, she is starting to cry

We've come from a long way
To share your birthday
We love you that's why we're here

But now the first issue
Is get you a tissue
To dry each and every tear

Your strength we've relied on
Your shoulder we've cried on
You've smiled through it all

But act like a smarty
And throw you a party
Then all you can do is bawl.

Happy Birthday
Summer 1987 (?)