“I love you,” I whispered to her ear.
She’s sleepy yet she fights it. She’s still waiting for someone, and she doesn’t know he’s already beside her.
She curiously stared at me like I’m a stranger. I smiled sadly. For a moment she just studied my face before slowly smiling with misty eyes.
“I wish my son would also tell me that,” she whispered between labored breaths.
I couldn’t help but silently cry. I never told her I love her before Alzheimer’s hit her, and no matter how many times I utter those words now, she wouldn’t remember me anymore.