The death of my Dina, my dear sister-in-law, is wrapped around my birthday. Disconnected nuggets of her wisdom and naivete keep coming to my mind – but they’re not moments I want to share.  Like me, she always noticed and remembered the details that should be ignored and/or shouldn’t be discussed.   Usually they were buried in some simple chatter, so most people wouldn’t notice.  She’s the one who told me about the rocks her mother carried in her pockets.  In case Rommel invaded Palestine, she was going to take her daughters to the sea to drown herself with them.  She would have had her 85th  birthday in 2 days. Do the math.