I remember when Theresa celebrated her 100th birthday at our house in Great Neck. It was a warm summer day and we had brunch outside. Theresa came in a Chanel suit with Oxford shoes, (afterall, she was one hundred). Theresa enchanted everyone; she spoke in rhyme and when she went inside the house, the group followed her.
My neighbor was mesmerized.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“A gentleman never asks a lady her age.”
“Well, I’m eighty.”
“Well who asked you?”
Everyone adored her.
In appreciation, she offered to paint something for me and admired a brass teapot. “Please take it.” It was a magical afternoon. And I owe it all to my daughter Michele Cohen, a loving friend to Theresa.