Found

The first time I tried giving her the present I’d gotten her, she wouldn’t open it. She whispered, because her voice was still shot from the tube, “I have something for you, too, but I left it in the car.”

She didn’t want to get a Christmas gift unless she had one to give. So she made a joke about how she must have forgotten hers, and how she’s been forgetful lately and how she must be getting old. And she smiled at me the way she does.

She’s more lucid now. For now. But it’s been clear over the last several days that she hasn’t always known what was happening. And the things she’s said, the things she’s thought, haven’t always made sense.

She hasn’t always been able to find the words.

But even in those times she still found her smile. And she still found her mannerisms. She still found her personality through all of that. And even though she sometimes got lost in her own mind, the person she is somehow found her way out. And that was a great thing to see.