4/10/08
This was taken in the little synagogue on the main floor at the Hebrew Home. My father said he wanted to attend afternoon services, but they couldn't let him attend after all. He made his groaning sound and distracted people. And he wouldn't stay put.
My father died peacefully on February 6, 2012. I had arrived a few hours before he died, so I had time to sit by him and talk and even moisten his lips with the long-promised scotch I had with me. I don't know if he heard me, but he smacked his lips from the scotch, My father had Alzheimer's and had donated his brain to the Alzheimer's study he'd been part of at Columbia Presbyterian Medical Center. I'll continue to post for a while.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
he can still read hebrew aloud . L1064563
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