My wife’s parents Mahin and Mahmood on their wedding day. Mahin lived into her nineties and Mahmood died in 1987. Mahmood was an avid amateur photographer. He roamed all over Iran taking snapshots that he dutifully labeled and cataloged. Most of his pictures were lost. I’d love to get ahold of his pictures but they are gone. I’m very glad I got to know Mahin. She lived with us for about two years. She was in her nineties, suffering from dementia, and language challenged. Her English was never very good but as dementia took hold even her grasp of Farsi began to fade. She was a very positive woman and enjoyed life right up to the end. Mahin and I mostly communicated by watching the same dumb shows on TV. We both enjoyed Wipeout. There’s something profoundly human about watching people plunge into vast vats of goo: it’s funny in any language or mental state.