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My Grandmother’s Death Presents a Journalistic Regret and a Literary Goldmine
When my grandmother, Joyce Himmel, died on May 11 , it marked the end of a very long era. She was just two-and-a-half weeks shy of turning ninety-five. She wasn’t sick, really. A near perfect picture of health and resilience for the better part of a century, in the final minutes of the fourth quart