The test of any relationship is whether someone will stick around when times get tough. Mark has middle-level Alzheimer’s. There are long periods of time he cannot account for. Often he can’t remember the names of everyday objects, or even of people. This is both unsettling and irritating. He spends a good deal of his time in a comfortable armchair by the window, looking out at the back yard. But there is a man in the house with him. Mark doesn’t feel threatened by his presence. Just perplexed. Who is he? What is he doing there? All Mark knows is that he is handsome and has the most beautiful blue eyes he has ever seen. There are moments when he thinks he remembers who the man is, but as time marches on and the disease ravages his brain, he becomes less and less sure. Perhaps it isn’t even a man.

Forgetting

The man draws me back into the hallway in such a way that I cannot see through the glass. I become agitated. If only he’d let…me…go.


“Not today,” he says. “It’s a bit chilly out there. Come inside. I’ve made some coffee.”


I start whimpering—I know it sounds pathetic—like a dog that senses it is about to be beaten. The truth is, I feel so powerless. All I want to do is go outside. I wouldn’t go far. I just want to feel a  of the world again. Who does this man think he is?


I am returned to my seat by the window and am distracted by the smell of coffee. I see there is also a side plate with a sliver of cake on it.


“It’s carrot cake. Your favourite.”


I stare at the cake and wonder how he knows what my favourite cake is. I wasn’t aware I had a favourite. I pick it up and bite into it. An explosion of wonderful flavours fills my mouth and I can see why carrot cake is my favourite. I put it down and sip my coffee. It tastes good. It makes me feel good.


Chapter 2