Yesterday, I added something new to my journal:
“If one day I look at Henry and don’t know who he is, please read this to me: This man is your heart. He has been your heart for sixty years. Even if you forget his name, your soul will recognize him. Trust the love you cannot remember—but that has never left you.”
I showed it to him.
He cried as he read it, then held me like I might disappear.
And maybe, someday, I will.
But not today.
Today, we still have this.
If memory fades, I hope love remains.
Because even in forgetting… my Henry was never truly lost.
