“See you next year,” Mom would say as she tucked us in on December 31. Implied was the promise of something new, an optimism about the...

It’s official! My parents now own a property just down the lane from me. Though we only live 90 minutes apart by car (or 2½ hours by...

“This mirror looks like me,” Mom exclaimed. We were in a café with my dad. “It does, doesn’t it?” I answered, as Daddy and I exchanged...

“I don’t know if I’m lost or not,” Mom said as walked in the city. We were holding hands, the sun gracing us with warmth, the sheltering...

Mom’s walking has become problematic. Her stride has shortened, and she seems to shuffle as she walks, scraping her feet against the...

Here’s the hard part about visiting my parents once a week: my children have needs, too. I am a typical member of the sandwich...

I was privileged to hear about research that a friend, Yifat Miller, is involved in at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev that tracks the...

Coming home from a trip abroad is like slipping into your most comfortable pair of shoes. It feels natural. It feels good. Today, one day...

I’m worried about Mom’s legs. We were out for about two hours and by the time we started walking home, mom was complaining about pains in...

Mom keeps family photos on her dresser. There’s an engagement photo of me and my brother with our respective spouses the summer we both...

Mom used to tell me stories about growing up in London. She was born in 1941, during the war, but was too young to remember much. She and...

I am profoundly tired. We just celebrated the holiday of Sukkot in a whirlwind, enjoyable, family-oriented 48 hours. There were moments...

I grew up singing a song called, “Three Young Ladies Locked in the Lavatory,” a whimsical romp about, well, three young ladies who got...

Mom’s watch is missing. The digital gold-plated watch she got from her sister as a birthday present a few years ago. Gone. We’ve looked...

What a relief to come home to a quiet house. When I got back from visiting my parents, I actually looked forward to doing the laundry, to...

Sometimes—like now—I feel overwhelmed by the responsibility of taking care of my Mom. What if, when she’s with me, she can’t be reasoned...

I had an “aha” moment this week, an epiphany produced by the videos my brother Simon found and transfered to the computer from 1966. When...

How is it that poetry can stir such strong memories? I accompanied my mom to her monthly poetry class where they read and discuss poems...

Mom has stopped meeting her friends for coffee on Friday mornings. And she’s stopped going to synagogue on Shabbat. Wait. Let me rephrase...

A door is a metaphor for so many aspects of life. Doors that open to opportunity, hope, an invitation, new beginnings, other worlds....