He hadn’t handled everything correctly. He should have told me sooner, and locking her door had put her at risk.
But he loved her.
And that night I understood something I wish I’d learned earlier.
Sometimes the people we love are quietly struggling, and we don’t notice until fear makes us look closer.
My mother may forget my birthday.
She may forget my name.
One day, she may even forget that I’m her daughter.
But I will never forget that she spent 54 years loving me.
And now it’s my turn to make sure she feels safe, loved, and never alone.
If your mother no longer recognized you, would you still visit her every day? Tell me in the comments. 
