“Oh, I’m glad you’re here!” he said with a bright smile.
His eyes told the truth. He no longer remembered his daughter with whom he shared a birthday.
He looked right at me. I could have been the nurse’s assistant or an aide. Sometimes I was his son.
“Happy Father’s Day!” I said, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.
“Father’s Day?” he asked. “Who’s the father?”
“You are!” I said, hoping he would remember.
“I am?” he asked, pointing awkwardly at himself. He paused, and then shaking his head, retorted, “You’re the father!”
Brenda Avadian, MA
The Caregiver’s Voice