The Good Fight

One day while vsiting Mom, I got a rare glimpse into the mind of one with Alzheimer’s. “I feel like I am in a tunnel and can’t find my way back,” she said. “Are you afraid?” I asked. “No, just frustrated.” “Where do you go in the tunnel?” I prodded. “I’m with my mother.” “Why do you go to your mother’s?” “Because she knows how to fix things,” she said, tapping her forehead.

Sailors and Angels

That evening, we took the subway under the East River to the World’s Fair in Queens.  The return trip to Manhatten sealed the memory in our minds forever.  We decided to get off the subway in Times Square because we didn’t know what other stop was close to our hotel.  We climberd the stairs to the streets above and were immediatelyl surrounded by several men.  We froze in fear.