So many different thoughts are running through my mind right now. Are these two actually my parents? Do we have the same relationship as my dream parents? If they are my parents, then are my dream parents not real? Too many questions for me to fully commit to hugging them back.

They look nothing like the parents I remember. They’re both on the short side with the man looking to be slightly shorter than the woman. In my dream, my dad was a tall and wide man. But the two people in front of me more closely resemble my height. I’m a pretty small person after all.

Both of their hair is different than my dream parents as well. The woman has a short, black bob when the mom from my dream had long blonde hair. And the man has a full head of thick black hair that’s completely opposite of the dreams balding head. Thinking about it, I guess I never realized how unalike I looked from the parents in my dream. I look way more alike to the people in front of me.

Though I will say, something about them does feel familiar. I’m not uncomfortable around them like I would be if a stranger were hugging me. It’s like my subconscious recognizes them enough for me to not want to push away.

And it is a nice hug the woman is giving me. I had almost forgotten how good it felt to have your mom hug you. Good enough that my eyes begin to tear up.

A lot of different emotions suddenly come over me and I can’t hold back the crying anymore. Emotions that feel as if they’re about more than just the hug. Because seeing the two people in front of me also made me slightly sad for some reason.

Only the hug I’m receiving is distracting me too much to look any deeper into those feelings. Even if they are like my dream parents, I want to pretend that they’re hugging my out of love for just a bit longer. I want so badly to have a good relationship with my parents.

After some more time, and a bit more crying, we all eventually settle down enough to talk. And it was my mom who was first to speak and be translated by Mr. Yamada "She asked if you remember them at all."

Which I knew my response would disappoint her "Gomennasai, but the parents I remember from my dream looked completely different. So I don’t recognize them."

My moms soft smile turns into a small frown once what I said is translated to her. My dad sees she’s upset as well, so he talked in her place "It's okay, we will try to help you remember. We brought photo albums when we heard about your memory loss." is what’s translated to me.

He gestures to the bag my mom is holding. She sees the attention brought back on her and pulls out few large books that she then holds in front of her with pride. I can tell that she cherishes the books just by the way she’s presenting them to me.

Putting one down on her lap, she quickly flips through the pages with the intent of finding a specific picture. And when she finds it, she turns the book around to show me by pointing to it.

The picture was of the three of us together and posing in front of the entrance to an amusement park. We all look so happy too. It’s exactly the type of photo a loving family would take. And my smile looked genuine. Not one of those fake smiles you put on to pretend you’re happy for the camera. Like I was happy to be around my parents.

It further helps me accept that the two of them actually are my parents. Even though I still don’t recognize them or remember the picture they’re showing me. Seeing how happy they are showing me the picture gives me that bit of hope they aren’t like my dream parents at all. Just looking at the photo gives me a warm feeling inside.

But as I look at for longer and more in depth, I notice I’m younger in the picture, and my hair is still solid black. It reminds me that I no longer look like I’m in high school. So even though I’m a little scared to hear the answer, I still need to ask.

“That’s such a lovely picture. But I noticed I was a bit younger in it than I am now… can you uh… tell me how old I am… oh uh Watashi wa nansai desuka?"

Asking how old I was in Japanese made my mom’s answer a bit more enthusiastic. But that didn’t make me feel any better about what was translated to me “You turned 20 a few weeks before your accident.”

I know I should have expected that based on the evidence, but it still stung a bit to hear. A three year difference? That’s not and insignificant amount of time. Like I remember being in high school literally yesterday, and now what? Am I in college now?

They can tell by my body language that I didn’t like the response. So Mr. Yamada asks me “Is everything alright? You don’t look happy with that answer.”

Both my parents look concerned as they watch me respond “No, it’s just… 20 years old huh? It’s a lot to take in is all. I was younger in my dream.”

Mr. Yamada was translating to them as I spoke and went back to asking me questions once he finished “How old do you remember being?”

The answer came out a little shaky “I was 17 years old… still in high school.”

Before even hearing the response, my mom knew I was hurting. So she holds my hand and grasps it firmly to tell me she’s here for me even if she can’t say it herself. Even my dad put his hand on my leg in support.

My mom then said something that Mr. Yamada translated “Everything will be okay Emily. We are both here for you.”

It gets me a little emotional. Being comforted by my parents like this isn’t something I’m used to. But I’m loving every second of it. The only emotions I would ever feel after conversations with my dream parents were fear and sadness. I just hope that I can get more of this in the future.

Not wanting to cry again, I change the subject back on the photo album “Thank you… now how about we look through more of these picture books?”

They both agree, as they feel it would be a good distraction for me after learning about my age. My mom brings the book up to my lap where she flips it to the very beginning. A picture of my mom holding me as a newborn while my dad held both of us was the very first picture in the book. The two of them looked so happy in that picture.

I’m holding the book, but my mom is flipping through the pages while telling me stories from my childhood. Though she’s flipping through the baby pictures quite quickly. She figured I wouldn’t even remember any of that stuff before the amnesia, so she wanted to get to the pictures I’m more likely to have had memories of. She only slows down the page turning when we get to pictures from when I was in middle school.

This section had a lot more photos of me with friends. Only it felt as if I were looking at a stranger. I knew it was me, but everything else was just so unfamiliar.

As the pages continued being turned, I wondered if I would end up seeing anyone from my dream. But with each new page came no familiar faces. It should have made me happy, yet it didn’t. I just kept hoping to see Yukio show up on that next page.

Which she still hadn’t by the time we reached the end of middle school. My mom told me while flipping through the pages that I ended up going to a different high school than my middle school friends and ended up loosing contact with them. Which did make me a bit nervous to think about how it paralleled with my dream. I wasn’t on alert just yet, it was just in the back of my mind.

But it gave me hope I would still see Yukio in the high school section of the book.

Something was different about that section though. It still had a lot of photos of me alone and going on vacations with my parents, but that’s pretty much all it was. There wasn’t any photos of me with friends, and the only pictures I had with other kids was from school club activities. I was mostly alone, but still looked happy.

There was also a lot more blank space on each page. Like they tried to make the few photos they had take up as much of the page as they could. I was afraid to ask why there was so much more blank space on these pages than the previous ones. That little thought in the back of my mind still lingered and I kept my question to myself. I told myself it was because I was a high school student and probably didn’t want to take a lot of pictures anymore.

We eventually reach the end of the book and still no Yukio. I hadn’t actually seen a single familiar person. I was disappointed, and so were my parents. Though their disappointment came from me not being able to remember any memories. And with visiting hours about to end, they were going to have to say goodbye to me for the night.

Before they left, Mr. Yamada stepped in to give us the rundown of what’s going to happen over the next few days.

He told us I would be moving to a new ward tomorrow where there will be English speaking staff and I wouldn’t need to rely on him for translating. The new staff already knew that translation for me would be needed and they were available for it. He also mentioned I would be starting physical therapy tomorrow due to my bodies atrophied state.

Then he let my parents know they would have to leave for the night.

Both of them give me one last hug before leaving. They told me that they would be visiting again tomorrow as soon as possible. My moms smile said she was happy to have talked to me, but her eyes said she was sad to go. The both of them looked at me and dragged their feet the entire time they were leaving the room. They didn’t want to leave, but they had to.