It must be hard to lose your mind.  To wake up one day, and to not remember.  The day, the year, what we had for supper, the color of your new shoes, the lyrics to your favorite song.  And then somebody tells you, and it doesn’t matter all that much, but still; it’s something you should know, should have known, did know, at one time—but now it’s just gone.  Vanished. Like it was never there in the first place. Almost as if we hadn’t had spaghetti just last night, when you commented on how delicious the garlic bread was, and wanted to know the recipe; I told you it was yours, the kind you used to make.  Or like we didn’t go shopping last week, just you and I. It was a spur-of-the-moment trip, after you broke your old shoes. We couldn't agree, but that didn't bother us, really. We've always been able to laugh. You got red shoes, beautiful, flashy, a little foolish and impractical, but at the same time they make me think of you.  And we used to sing your song. In the car, with the volume blasting, we'd holler along with the chorus. Anytime, anywhere, I could just hum the verse, and you'd smile, start singing along. I saw you, yesterday, sitting, listening to your music. I heard the song, and couldn't help but smile. But I think my smile was a little sad, and it started to fade, until it disappeared.  You were sitting there, trying to sing your favorite song, the song I always hear when I think of you, but you couldn't. The melody was gone, the words were missing. I went to you, I sang with you, taught you how to sing the song we always sang together. And we laughed. But I think I might cry. I know it's hard, losing your mind. The bits and pieces vanishing from your existence.  Waking up in the morning with one more part of your life, of your memories gone. The day, the year, your address, my favorite food, your birthday, my name. And the fear—I’ve felt it too. Will you wake up one day, not knowing your own name? What happens when you forget everything, the most intrinsic details? I miss you, the memories we've shared. Are they gone for good? When you forget who I am, will I always be able to help you remember?  Or will you wake up one day, and see me only as a stranger? I don't know. Maybe no one does. But I do know this. I love you. I love you, and I know that's something you'll never forget.