Dementia


High tide was on its way in as I walked along the beach. I picked up pieces of sea glass, smooth, white, translucent and oddly shaped.

I remembered the old Jewish woman, whom I walked the beach with. Most of our days began with a walk by the shore and just as many ended there too. Together, we would retrace our steps looking for shells and sea glass.

We walked and talked. Words I will always remember, but words she will always forget.

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