This article is part of the CelebrEighty series by Judy Katz… When marriages fall apart, they often leave behind shattered relationships. This is especially true if children from a former marriage are in play. The loving bond that may have grown between the step-parent and the spouse’s children is usually severed. Sometimes the bond holds—but sadly, that is rare. There can be many reasons: a continued animosity between the former partners, distance, or the step-parent forming other romantic and familial relationships. The step-child with whom they were once close becomes a memory rather than an active part of their life.

I am thankful that is not the case with my “chosen son,” Daryl. Daryl’s father, Ed, was a young widower when we met. His wife Jan died of brain aneurysm at age 32. She left him with three young boys: Robert, brilliant student, who became a sought-after science writer, then age 13; and Brian, then 8, handsome and outgoing, who became a highly successful orthodontist. And then the baby of the family, little Daryl, just 4, who took my heart the moment I met him in a midtown diner, where he peered at me from behind the hamburger that looked gigantic in his tiny hands. That night, he was so shy—all button nose, freckles, and questioning blue eyes. His mother had died three days before his third birthday; he was too young to remember her well. Read more

This story is part of the CelebrEighty Series written by Judy Katz… Yesterday a beloved friend, who recently celebrated his 90^th birthday, was on his way to meet me for lunch. We were going to Felice Columbus for the fourth time. Why keep returning when there are so many fine restaurants all over Manhattan? If you order the Crostone Ricotta on brochette, topped with fresh ricotta, Italian linden, spicy honey, figs, and sliced almonds, not to mention my favorite cocktail ever, their one-of-a-kind multi-liquor/liqueur “monteregina,” you too would be culinarily attracted to the same fine dining experience.

But this is not a cooking column: I want to tell you why this lunch never happened—and may never happen again—because my friend fell on the sidewalk and injured himself. That fall was unnecessary. He is a proud man. And as we know, sometimes “pride goeth before a fall—in his case literally! He wouldn’t use a walker to steady himself or make sure someone was there to walk beside him the few blocks from his townhouse to the restaurant. One of his devoted assistants said, “He wants to think he’s still 25.” Read more