The Daily News Sunday Comics were always folded, one inside the other. The innermost layer marked the week of my last visit, the outermost layer was the one I read first.

My aunt who completed the Sunday New York Times Crossword in pen and graduated first in her class made no distinction between highbrow and lowbrow pleasures. She was just as likely to recite Wordsworth as she was the comic strip Calvin and Hobbs. Each Sunday she bought the papers, read them thoroughly, then saved the entire comic section for me.

I cherished these colorful pages year after year, but then as a teenager I hinted that reading comics was childish. “You are never too old to read the things you love.” she said.

Our tradition continued for many more years.