I sit here quietly in my bed, looking out the window. I enjoy seeing the birds flitting about, flying, landing on the feeder that's hanging from the tree. I hear someone come into my room and say good morning to me. She has a very sweet voice. I look over to her and she calls me "Anna". Is that my name? If it is, it's pretty a name. She then offers me some food, but I don't feel hungry, though I do eat because she seems so nice. After a time, I see the plate in front of me is empty and the woman takes it away. I go back to looking out my window. I do love the birds.
Eventually a man enters and he also says good morning to me, calls me "My Love". Is that my name? He sits next to me and I look at him. My heart flutters for some reason when I see his smile and his pretty brown eyes. He takes my hand in his and he squeezes it softly, then lifting it for him to kiss the back of it. Again, my heart flutters. He's a very nice man.
He says to me, "My love, I have a treat for you. A single purple rose. Like the one I gave you when we first met."
I smile and see him put the beautiful flower in a small vase that sits on a table. A purple rose? Again, my heart flutters.
As he sits, I see him open a book filled with pictures. Pictures of many people, of him when he was much younger, with his arm around a pretty redhead. On a beach. On a ship. They look very happy. I reach out and touch the book. I get a sensation of familiarity of the one pictures I see. The man kissing the woman. I briefly recall something and I smile at what I thought. A night of love and passion. A thought of soul mates. I briefly recall a life. I whisper softly, "I love you so much, Jason."
The man grows quiet and I see he has tears in eyes. Pretty brown eyes shouldn't have tears. I feel I should say something, but nothing comes to mind. I look out my window and see the birds flitting about, landing on the feeder. They make me smile.
The man stands up when a woman enters the room. I hear them talking, but I'm not really listening. I hear the word "dementia" and that word scares me for some reason. I don't know why, but it does. But as I hear him talk, another thought comes to mind. A thought of me with a man. That man? He and I are making love and my heart soars. My love for this man is all encompassing. I feel safe within his arms.
The man sits back down next to me and he's telling me he needs to go, but he'll return tomorrow. I smile, nodding softly. For some reason I am very tired and I close my eyes. As sleep takes me, I can still feel his hand holding mine. It comforts me. I hear him weeping, but I'm too tired to wake up. I dream of a single purple rose and a man with pretty brown eyes.
He looks at her as she sleeps. So peaceful. He leans over and kisses her forehead and tells her he loves her more than life itself. He knows she no longer recognizes him, but when he heard her say she loved him today, his heart fluttered. He knows his wife remembered briefly. An unexpected gift for him.
He reluctantly stands and goes to leave, looking back at his wife of 40 years. Her red hair now gray and her face wrinkled, he still thinks she the most beautiful woman in the world. And while he knows she's where she needs to be, he misses her. He misses her sleeping next to him. Waking up beside her. Kissing her every morning. She may not remember, but he does. He remembers for the both of them. A life of love and laughter. He sees her favorite flower and smiles.
As he's about to leave and he hears a long slow exhale of breath. He looks at her and he knows. He knows....
He sits on her bed, takes her hand, kissing her one last time, and softly cries. The love of his life is now at peace.
