What was she really like? It’s a paradox for me. She read Anais Nin, but believed that not wearing lipstick was a crime against nature. My mother was a Canadian-born woman of immensely sophisticated tastes in music and theater, literature and painting, ideas and dress. Despite all this, upon hearing of any potential disaster, she would plead under her breath in Yiddish, “Zol Der Ebershter oys-heetn,” “May the One Above guard against this.” When comparing a living person she loved (me, for instance) to someone dead, she unfailingly added, “Deehr tzu langeh yoor,” “May you have long life.” Similarly with discussing illness; in any narrative about a sick friend she always inserted,”Nisht fahr deehr gedakht,” “May such a thing not be intended for you.”