My own mother, Dorothy Bloom, born in 1924, died unexpectedly but very peacefully at the beginning of the month just a month short of her 88th birthday. She was in a hospital upstate (as I languished in my hospital in the city) for observation following an apparently minor cardiac event, had a fun evening of card playing and gossip with relatives and nurses, and then just passed sweetly and swiftly away without any sign of fear or confusion.
She was a greatly exceptional person in just about every way, and it was such good fortune for the five of us to be her child that it seems almost ill-mannered to mourn—like, you want more? Anyway, here's some music, dedicated to her.
She was a greatly exceptional person in just about every way, and it was such good fortune for the five of us to be her child that it seems almost ill-mannered to mourn—like, you want more? Anyway, here's some music, dedicated to her.
