Over the weekend I went to visit my father in his assisted living facility. Dad’s memory has been going….going…well, it’s nearly gone. He doesn’t remember my mother, with whom he had a 52-year, loving relationship. He doesn’t remember his own mother. He doesn’t remember his sister, or MY sister, who died a few years ago.
In an effort to keep him somewhat in the loop of our shared memories, I tell him stories. I feed him information about basic things he’s completely forgotten about.
“How do you know so much?” he said.
“You told me many of these things,” I gently replied.
“Oh, he said….”was any of what I told you, GOOD?”