At nine years old and orphaned, my
Grandmother Rose escaped from Czarist
Russia, near Siberia. 80 years later,
following peaceful decades in Brooklyn,
Newark, and  two husbands, she moved to
a leafy apartment in a New Jersey town,
which she loved.

This home was to be her last.
Surrounded by family and a Siberian
caregiver, Rose continued to live with
wry, muted grace.

(2003-4)

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