“Hey,” my mom crooned, her palm closing around my face.
But I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
The pain of losing Leon, the agony of hurting him. The prospect of facing a future with Alzheimer’s, of knowing how much I’d have to give up if that was the case. The terror eating away at my soul, the knowledge that someday soon my mom wouldn’t remember me. It would happen.
And not like this—drawn out seconds of abject fear, quickly followed by a reprieve. Eventually, the reprieve wouldn’t come. And I’d be no one to her. It felt like every time
I’d looked at her since I found out, I’d held my breath and waited for her to recognize me, knowing that one day she wouldn’t. Knowing that was the reality I wanted to avoid.
I lived in a constant state of fear of it.
“Don’t cry, my darling,” she whispered, voice tight with emotion. “I’m sorry, Alissa, honey. I’m so sorry.” Her voice cracked, and sobs wracked me.
I curled into her, my ribs aching as tremors crushed my body. “I’m sorry, Mom.” I reached out and gripped her arm, my head buried in the pillow, trying to hide the evidence of my breakdown and muffle the sound of my cries. She didn’t need to see this. “I’m sorry I left. And I’m sorry I made you feel like it was your fault. I don’t blame you. I don’t, and I never will. Please don’t ever think that.”
These would be the last memories she’d make. I wanted them to be good ones, even if she was going to forget them. Even if it killed me to be here and watch it, I wanted to be there for every second she had. I wanted her every living moment from now on to be a good one.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, squeezing my lids tight.
“Don’t apologize, Lissa.” She stroked a hand over my hair as she wept. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I don’t want you to leave me, Mom.”
“Oh, honey.” Her tears slid over my temples as she wrapped her arms around me and pressed a kiss to my head. “I don’t want to leave you either. And I’m so sorry that this has happened to us.” Her voice clogged, her arms growing tighter around me. “But I’m also so grateful, Liss.”
I eased back in her hold, meeting her eyes as I whispered, “How can you say that? How can you be grateful when your life is being ripped away from you?”
Her lips curled up a little on one side as she brushed the hair back from my face. “No one can take it away, honey. Every moment I’ve lived? They happened. Whether I’ll remember them or not, they happened. They meant something to me, to the people around me. I experienced them, I lived them. And the best memories I ever made are the kind that live and breathe.” She smiled. “You and your sister, honey. I’ll never regret anything about my life because I have you to show for it.”
I glanced down, wondering where she drew such incredible strength from. “How do you cope, Mom? Knowing every day, you lose a little more of yourself? Knowing that your tomorrows are numbered? How do you cope with that? If I have it, how do I live with that?” My words were desperate, tumbling from my lips before I could prevent them. If she was trying to avoid facing her reality, I shouldn’t be shoving it in her face, but I needed her guidance. I needed her strength. And she understood.
Eyes filled with clarity and resolve locked on mine. “We live for now, Liss, honey. Don’t hold back. Live like you’ll remember every single moment and make each and every one of them count. People forget every day. They take so much for granted. We’re lucky, Liss. We get to cherish every minute because we know how precious they are.” Her eyes lifted over my head when the door creaked behind us. I turned to see my aunt walking through the door, her head angled to the side.
“You know, Bree’s always telling me to see the positive, and I think that’s it. My baby sister is almost ten years younger than me, but she’s always been wiser.”
A fond smile spread across Bree’s face as she came closer to the bed, lowering herself down and placing her hand on my calf over the sheet. I drew in a breath as I turned back to my mom, almost afraid to ask.
“If you knew… before…” I swallowed. “Would you still do it all the same?”
Her features smoothed out, the hint of a smile slowly fading as she tucked a section of hair behind my ear. “I don’t know for sure, honey.” She shook her head, eyes filling, and my heart sank. “I wish that wasn’t something you had to consider.”
“People lose loved ones every day, Liss,” Bree said quietly. “Suddenly, tragically, without warning. If they knew it was going to happen, would they have walked away at the start? I know I wouldn’t. Every day is a day I could lose Jim, and vice versa. It goes for everyone because life is so fragile. We just don’t think about it. But if I lost him tomorrow, I wouldn’t give back one day I did get to have with him. Not one. And he feels the same way.”
My chest caved, crushing the organs beneath it, and I wrapped my arms around my body. Because I hadn’t given Leon a choice. If our roles had been reversed, would I have wanted him to give me the choice? Would I have picked him, anyway?
It was my answer that had me curled up in a ball of pain in my mom’s and aunt’s arms.
“You know what’s worse than forgetting everything, Liss?” my mom asked quietly, and I shook my head, because what could be worse than that?
“Having nothing to forget.”
The quiet words, so simple yet so profound, slammed into me.
And all I could see was the look of hurt on Leon’s face.
I’d hurt him. Badly. So badly he’d probably never forgive me.
He might forget. He’d probably forget. Over time. Next week, in a few months, or even a few years.