I walk into the doorway feeling almost queasy. I've been here so many times before, yet it always feels terrifyingly new. As I move throughout the short entryway, the receptionist greets me in a friendly manner. I almost forget my grief for a few moments. Almost. She asks who I am here to see today. "Mrs. Smith, my wife." She looks at me sympathetically and it hurts in a way. That expression on her face says it all. "Do you need me to show you the way to her room?" "No thank you. I know the way." I moved step by step away from the desk and down the luminescent hallway. The lights bearing down on me. The placard by the door said room 189. I had arrived.

I hesitantly made my way inside. I should be used to this by now. With me I brought photographs to help her remember the good times we had together. "Hi sweetheart." She turned with an almost blank expression on her face. Her eyes seemed to be glazed over yet fixated. As seemingly as though there was another world right there on the blank television screen. "This is a good show. Just wait they're getting to the real funny part." And then she laughed. I felt frustrated and disappointed. I didn't want the visit to go like this. I know it was selfish of me to want more. But I miss her and all that she used to be. "Hey, I brought some old pictures. Would you like to look?" I hoped that she would remember something. 

I wheeled her to the table by her bed and set the album down in front of her to look. She looked up at me. "What am I supposed to do with this?" I patiently responded. "Look at them. You just need to open it to see what's inside." She had trouble opening it since her hands had such terrible tremors anymore. "Let me help you." I sat down on her hospital bed and shifted through the photos. "This is us on a camping trip. You said you hated the bugs, but you enjoyed it anyways." I looked at her expectantly. "I don't remember." The hope plummeted in my chest. I decided to go on anyways.

At least we could spend some time together. Whatever time I had left with my beautiful wife. "How about this? This is us celebrating getting our first house." She squinted. "I don't recognize that place." It was time to change the subject. I didn't want to feel any more in despair. It didn't seem like she would remember anymore. I would try another day. "Keep turning the pages!" She yelled. I obliged. "What did you have for lunch I asked her?" She looked at the page with a glimmer in her eyes. "I had a piece of cake. I think it was chocolate. Just like our cake." I looked down and the page I had turned to was the one of our wedding photos. It was us cutting the cake and smiling for the photographer. We were so happy. To be married and start our life together. It felt like a daydream years ago.

Now we were wrinkled and tired. But it didn't stop us from loving each other. Not even when she forgets me. She will always remember me in her heart. I spend the rest of the visiting hours making sure she's doing well and letting her know I will always be there for her if she needs me. Here to help and guide her. The nurse comes to the room and lets me know that visiting hours are over. I kiss her one last time on the cheek. "Bye." I say. She waves and I head to the front desk then out the door. She remembered. Today was a good day.