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I am in the North for a family visit. My elderly parents manage their simple life with a grace that humbles me. They could be threatened by the simplest acts. My minor setbacks would be their calamities: a fall, the flu, a minor accident driving to the store. Today they were mirthful and sweet and I could not decide if they were revisiting childhood or auditioning to become angels. Last month, I wrote a review of the movie “Amour,” an intense look at a couple managing change after half a century of life together (they managed it as one). Since I am not a filmmaker, but more a writer, I would display what I witness here, in the North, with the images formed of words,

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