“If you forget,” he said, “I will still remember you for both of us.”
That evening he showed me the paintings.
Our first meeting.
Our wedding.
The birth of our children.
So the future – me, confused, distant.
On a canvas dated 2032, he wrote:
“Even if you don’t know my name, you will know that you are loved.”
I wrote this below:
“Even if I forget everything else, I hope I’ll remember the way you held my hand.”
We decided to continue the experimental treatment, regardless of the cost.
I started writing a diary.
I write down names, memories, details.
Last week, I momentarily forgot our daughter’s name.
I wrote: “Iris. Brown hair. Nice eyes.”
I added this yesterday:
“If one day I don’t recognize Henry, say this: He is your heart. He has been for sixty years. Even if your mind forgets, trust in the love that remains.”
Memory may fade.
But love, I hope, endures.
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