I love this picture of my mom and dad. It embodies such hope for the future. They had a good life, a good marriage, 67 years long.
Near the end of life, even when they didn't know me, and Mom had lost her ability to speak, Dad would wrap his hand around hers and repeat their mantra, "We've been so lucky, we're so happy."
Even after Mom passed, when I visited Dad he'd repeat the same mantra, still using the plural pronoun "we."
During the cleanout of my parents' house I found their WWII love letters. After their deaths, my sister and I stood over the trash can ready to throw the letters away, thinking it would be an invasion of their privacy to read words they'd written intending for only each other. But we peeked and became enthralled.
I knew the letters must become part of Alzheimer's Daughter. The letters bring Mom and Dad's voices to the book by showing their budding love and devotion which held them together through their decline six decades later.
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