I watched her walk into the room, her head down, hair a little mussed up as she shuffled carefully. “ANNE!” I yelled and gave her a hug. I held onto her a little too long, feeling her soft shoulders. She looked at me, squinty, through her glasses, a small smile around the sides of her mouth. I walked her to her chair, one arm around her shoulder, the other on her other arm. She ate her Rice Krispie bar and left the sticky marshmallow on her fingers as she turned to me. I squatted down next to her and hugged her again. She leaned her head against mine and we sat like that for a minute. Then she pulled away and said, “You know, when those people go to sleep, you know, that other place, they never come back.” “Yes,” I said, “and when they leave, there’s a big empty space where they used to be.” She nodded seriously and smiled that smile again. “So that’s why I treasure every moment with you,” I said. “I love you,” she said. And I’m quite certain she had no idea who I was anymore, but it didn’t matter, because love is love. I laid my head on her shoulder and said, “I love you, too.”
