It all started with small forgetfulness episodes, seemingly trivial episodes, such as glasses and mobile phone lost somewhere. Then it became customary to find your keys and other personal objects in the most unlikely places. Little by little, you asked where you knew this person and that person from, just as some places ceased to have any meaning for you.

And despite your father being imprisoned in a life without memory in which the people he loved were not part of, we decided not to be trapped by fears, or fears of what might or might not happen, we let life take its course, because it was all right.

But your car lifts became moments of anguish and anxiety from the day we walk side by side throughout the city looking for your car. Time passed, but your paternal feelings did not, for you kept insisting that you could take me here and there. My refusal disguised as an excuse would leave you with your eyes fixed on the ground, leaving in the air a feeling of loss, of unfulfilled duty, and it would shatter me.

Without delay we sought help, it was the moment of facing the fears together … of that day I keep only an image, that one of you entering hand in hand with my mother in the neurologist’s office.

Everything is alright.

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