She had no clue who I was.
I know it wasn't her, specifically,
rather dementia had robbed her
of our moments together.
Yet, selfish as it might seem,
I was devastated by this.
I couldn't just slough it off --
felt it to the core.
But yesterday?
She did! I felt such joy
that she knew who I was,
remembered
my words, our adventures.
I'm still in there, somewhere.
I matter.
And this?
This will get me through
when another time,
I might feel erased.
Because now I know
I am not a pencil,
and our interactions
are written
in indelible ink.
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