Title: “Still My Dad”
Sarah stood by the window, watching the rain fall softly on the garden outside. Her father, Jack, sat on the couch behind her, flipping through an old photo album like it belonged to a stranger.
Once, he had been a man full of stories. A retired teacher, he’d taught high school English for over thirty years. His voice had carried warmth, wisdom, and laughter. He used to read Shakespeare aloud just for fun, and he could recite entire poems from memory.
But now, the disease had taken most of that away.
Alzheimer’s crept into their lives like fog—slow, quiet, but unstoppable. At first, Jack would just forget small things: where he put his keys, the names of neighbors, appointments. Then came the confusion. He once called Sarah from across town, panicked because he couldn’t remember how to get home.
Eventually, Sarah moved back into her childhood home to take care of him.
Some days, he knew her. Smiled when she walked in the room. Called her “my girl.” But others… he stared blankly, confused by her presence.
“Who are you?” he asked one evening.
“I’m Sarah,” she replied gently. “Your daughter.”
“Oh,” he said quietly. “I had a daughter. She used to love daisies.”
“She still does,” Sarah said, smiling through tears.
She made it her mission to remind him of who he was—even if only for moments. She hung framed photos around the house: Jack holding her on the beach when she was five, them baking cookies together, her graduation day. She played his favorite jazz records and cooked his favorite meals.
She told him stories about himself when he couldn’t remember.
“You loved my mother fiercely,” she’d say. “You proposed under the stars. You wrote her poetry every Valentine’s Day.”
Sometimes, he’d smile. Sometimes, he’d cry.
One afternoon, as Sarah sat beside him, brushing his hair back from his forehead like he used to do to her as a child, Jack suddenly looked at her.
“You look familiar,” he said.
“I’ve been here a while,” she replied.
He reached out and touched her face. “You have your mother’s eyes.”
The words broke her heart and healed it all at once.
She leaned down and kissed his forehead.
“I’m right here,” she whispered. “And I always will be.”
Because even if he forgot her name, her face, her voice—he had once loved her so completely that she carried that love inside her forever.
And that was enough.