The years together

My parents marry in a local park, surrounded by friends and family.  Over the next thirty five years, they experience challenges and harmonies, setbacks and celebrations.  Dementia ravages my mother's brain, and she cries that she is broken.  My father second-guesses his decisions about her care, but he stays dedicated.  When Mother can no longer live at home, Father visits her almost every evening after spending all day at the office.  He helps her eat when her fingers forget how to grasp silverware and she can no longer hold her plastic drinking cup and straw.  When she begins sleeping through most meals, he sits by her bed while she clasps his hand, silently pleading for him to stay.  

Mother fights against the disease that claims her memories, speech, and muscles.  When Father walks in the room, Mother shares the only thing she has left to give: a smile.  This precious link to who she used to be and who she will always be helps relieve the sadness of her decline and fear of life without her. 

Father gives my sister and her husband advice for their first anniversary.  "Your mother and I have had our years," he says, his voice quiet and strong.  "Enjoy your years, together."