They completed each others sentences when they talked and sat in silence when they didn’t. Mary and Sid did everything together. In the home, they sat side by side, his arm draped across her shoulders. Francis would be coming later, their daughter who was always on the go, go, go. The daughter who came two years after their marriage. There was more there but his words didn’t come easily anymore.
“My brain,” he said, pointing to his head. Those were the only words he had to explain his condition. How his words didn’t come out in the right order. How frustrated he was when he tried to remember the past. But together they had half memories. Their ages only recalled as “very old” and when they were married “a long time ago.” All that was left after the words and the remembrance was their love.
“Oh Mary.”
He stroked her neck and looked at her like it was their first date together. She brushed him off embarrassed at the public attention. Still, she smiled up at him, their hands entwined, initials carved in each other’s hearts.