He sat with his wife’s photo, waiting for a son who had already boarded without him

scores, or my piano recitals. He just smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made me feel safe.

“Tell me something beautiful you saw today,” he would ask.

I always had an answer for him. A red bird. A funny cloud. He remembered the small things, even when he began to forget the bigger ones. At first, the slipping was harmless, almost continue reading …