Our mom Bernice, z''l (1927-1988).
It’s been twenty-eight years since she has shared this world with us, and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of her.
The photograph above is one of my favorites, having captured just the smallest whiff of her vivaciousness. If you knew her, you’d know what I mean... and if you didn’t get to know her, alas for you.
Sometimes I wonder how much of my personality came from her and how much from Dad. My sense of humor is probably 99.8% Eli. The other day, Dee saw me react to something or other and immediately said, “What you just did? That’s Eli.”
But when I pick up a book? That’s Mom. I like to think that she’s there, invisible, looking over my shoulder whenever I read.
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