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.
The Hebrew Home is in Riverdale, the Bronx. It's huge. My father lives in this building, which is the one along the main driveway - though all are connected through hallways.
According to the NY State website, they have 560 beds.
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