The Look of Love & Steep Steps of Amsterdam

 We were having dinner in Amsterdam when I suddenly looked up from the menu. This man was absolutely staring at me. He had such a look of love in his eye that I had to take a snapshot so that I could cherish it, as I'm doing right now.

Andrew is so patient and kind. My stroke left me with right-sided weakness, but I did GREAT with all the steep steps in Amsterdam.

These are looking up towards our flat. 

This doesn't count the eight or so steps in front of the building to enter the foyer. 

(My motto every time: "Don't look up. I can do it!")

The bathroom was to the right of this stairway, which meant one had to go down these steps to go to the john in the middle of the night. (Then, back up to get back into bed.)

And this is a partial view of the ten or so steps up to the kitchen from ...

... this beautiful room we called home for three nights. (Note the magnificent windows. When opened in the morning, we heard doves and blackbirds.)

There are a LOT of steep steps in Amsterdam. But I'm proud that I could do them. #strokesurvivorsneverquit

The Edith Bouviers

I watched "Grey Gardens" last night. It's a 2009 American biographical drama television movie about the lives of Edith Bouvier "Little Edie" Beale, played by Drew Barrymore, and her mother, Edith Ewing "Big Edie" Bouvier, played by Jessica Lange. 

The Edies' mother-daughter relationship was profound, and at times, it was indeterminable who was more dependent on the other.

I can hear the elder Edith sing-song-y bellow, "Oh, EdieeeeeeEEEeeeee! " and the younger Edith addressing her mother with "Yes, Mother Dawling," in that impeccable and sophisticated East Hampton (New York) drawl.

My stroke took place eight years ago this Easter Sunday. As the car careened down the highway, what made my 86-year-old grab the wheel and crash us on the side of the highway? It was the precious and loving bond between mother and daughter at the flash of that instant.

I miss my mother so dearly on the anniversary of her saving my life.

#stroke #strokesurvivor #mystrokeinthefastlane #motherdaughtlove #

Photo: Sherwin Harris
 

Easter Sunday Morning Struck

This Easter Sunday marks eight years since I was cruising along Interstate 95 at 65 mph when the stroke struck. Since that day, I've accomplished much, starting with relearning the basic things: how to walk, swallow, and talk. I also wrote a memoir, My Stroke in the Fast Lane: A Journey to Recovery, which tells about the adventure, stroke prevention (Did you know that heart attacks and strokes are the #1 killer of women, even over cancer??), and the importance of positive thinking.

I still have a shaky right hand and right-sided weakness. When I had the stroke, I was certainly not able to thread a needle and sew on a button. NOW ... yes!!! I can do it!! There are these handy-dandy needle threaders, and with great patience, I sewed these brass buttons onto my jacket. Personal triumph abounds!

I treasure every moment and am grateful for everything I am able to do. (Even being here typing this message to you eight years later.)

My Beloved Mother Put to Rest on Martha's Vineyard

Mom, whose ashes were placed in this elegant hat box, on my lap during the ride to the Vineyard

We tucked in Mom next to my father, David H. Kogen, who was buried on Martha's Vineyard in 1986. The beginning of my book, My Stroke in the Fast Lane: A Journey to Recovery may be dramatic with having a stroke while driving on an interstate highway at 65 mph. But not as dramatic at my father, who died right on the tennis court while making a serve. 

Mom lived a wonderful, long life at 94. She died a natural death of old age. God bless her. 

Here are Betty's obituaries that appeared in the Vineyard Gazette and Westport Journal.

I miss her so very much.

"Islanders Write" hosted by MV TIMES & Edgartown Books

Welcome! In the morning, there was a great selection of workshops. The one I took, lead by esteemed New York Times writer Nicole Galland, was about layering characters and what might influence them:

Then, off to sell books (thanks to friends & neighbors for stopping by). At the evening cocktail party, writers had an oppportunity to read from their books:  

One of the bonuses of the day was having my good old friend Norman Birnbach present his book, Stealing Time.