RT Journal
A1 Weinstein E
T1 ON caring for those who will remain
JF JAMA
JO JAMA
YR 2012
FD November 7
VO 308
IS 17
SP 1749
OP 1750
DO 10.1001/jama.2012.13254
UL http://dx.doi.org/10.1001/jama.2012.13254
AB 
Today is the fourth anniversary of my mother's death. She was a petite powerhouse of a woman—not even 5 feet tall. As a Holocaust survivor, she had experienced some of the worst that life offers. How ironic that she would die due to a freak fall on the way to her neighborhood supermarket, walking hand in hand with my father. Independent to a fault, with a healthy dose of vanity, she would not consider any assistive device like a cane or walker to help her walk more steadily and safely. Yet this was her first significant fall—losing her balance when a passerby knocked into her, causing the tumble, leading to the unfortunate cascade that would be the end of her. She pulled my father down too, neither of them steady without the other, walking through the street, as in life, holding each other up. My father's fall resulted in a hip fracture. Unfortunately, my mother broke several ribs and was in tremendous pain. They made their way home—walking the 4 blocks to their apartment before they called my sister and me—not knowing how they made it back.