children to choose specific careers,
says Ben, who works at a private equity
firm but has an eye on running for
office someday. His parents would
be pleased if his passion led him into
rewarding work, even if it was low pay-
ing, he says, though “if I said, ‘I want
to golf every day for the rest of my life
and I don’t want to do anything with
it,’ there’d be a moment of silence, and
then my mother would hit me.”
Having an empty nest is a big
adjustment for the couple, the fam-
ily agrees. Joked Lily shortly before
she left to join Gabe at Northwestern:
“They keep saying they’re going to
come to Chicago every week and visit
us, which I’m hoping is an exaggera-
tion.” But Cohen and Vieira seem to be
enjoying the transition to couplehood
and are making a point of doing as
much as they can together, while they
can, in a life that holds no guarantees
for anyone.
One clear summer day, Vieira drives
Cohen and a reporter into the Cape
Cod town of Wellfleet for a short tour
that includes a visit to its new arts center in a restored church, Preservation
Hall. The family has donated funds for
an elevator in the two-story building,
in honor of Cohen’s parents.
Cohen wears blue jeans, a T-shirt
bearing an ivory-billed woodpecker,
and an electronic bracelike contrap-
tion that stimulates a nerve in his calf
to help him walk without tripping.
“It’s a very useful device,” he says. “It
ought to be better known than it is.”
Alighting from the passenger seat of
the family’s worn gray minivan, Cohen
collects his cane, gains his balance, and
begins to navigate toward the cross-
walk that leads to the hall. Vieira walks
alongside. It’s a busy day, and there’s
plenty of traffic: The swoosh of cars
passing nearly drowns out the sound of
birds chittering in the trees.
At the curb, Cohen stops, then leans
as if to start crossing. Vieira silently
slips her hand onto her husband’s, and
they wait. ;
QuickShop
Features editor Margaret Guroff
profiled Dr. Mehmet Oz in the May–
June 2010 issue.
