She was one of the regulars at Mme. Mareschal’s Cafe “les Arcades.” She took a hot cocoa on the morning of each market day — Thursdays and Saturdays and even Mondays. She had one of the best placements in market, just across the street from the street perpendicular to the rue Leon Blum. I gave some of her mentholated honey candies to a girlfriend in my medical school class for her birthday. She found them exotic, like me.
“Wow, those candies are like a high or something. I mean, they could clean your fingernails. ” Read more on When You Are Not Pretty Enough…
Filed under Family, life, News by on Jan 17th, 2019. Comment. 
The last time I saw my maternal grandfather, my Zadie, alive, he was mostly bedridden, in an institution for the aged in Springfield, Massachusetts.
He was 88 years old. He had long since retired from his profession of pawnbroking and about eight years before had been hauled in by the police since he was unable to locate the rented room where he desired to live alone, limiting his contact with his three daughters so that he could reassure himself he was not a burden. My mother worked frantically to convince him that she was indeed his daughter who lived in Boston. After a while, she finally elicited a smile from him.
“Boston. I have a daughter who lives there.” His inability to recognize my mother left her crying uncontrollably, despite my then meager (I think I had only recently become a doctor) attempts to explain to her what was then known about his brain disease, known as Alzheimer’s. Read more on Alzheimer’s Prevention Not As Important As Looking HOT!…
Filed under Alzheimer's Disease by on Apr 20th, 2010. Comment.