3. Breakfast & Confessions #3
“I know, honey.”
“So, how I’m supposed to know?” he questioned, looking genuinely confused.
She stood up straight and walked over to him. “Because I told you twice.”
He scratched the side of his head. “Damn. I forgot again.”
I felt myself tearing up. I knew he longed to be as sharp as he once was.
My mother pulled one of the gardening gloves off and put her hand up to his face.
Kissing his lips, she wrapped her arm around his neck.
She was the definition of partner. My father’s backbone.
His confidant and his safe space. His Alzheimer’s didn’t stop her from loving him or treating him like the king he was.
She adapted to his new way of life and moved accordingly.
Spotting me in the doorway, she smiled and tapped his back, pointing at me. “Look who came to visit.”
I walked outside and over to them. “Hey, y’all.”
My father turned at the sound of my voice, and he paused, scanning my face. He searched my eyes and my face that mirrored his own before cracking a smile. “Hey, Key,” he finally spoke.
The relief that settled in my chest coupled with joy was real. Some days, I was Key; other days, I could be someone from his childhood. On both days, he was still my daddy, and I corrected him lovingly, even if it hurt.
“Hey, Daddy,” I greeted, giving him a hug.
He kissed my forehead the same way he’d done my entire life.
“Hey, boo,” my mother spoke. “What you got there?”
“I bought y’all some food from Sullivan’s.”
“Oh, good,” my father said, dropping the shovel and taking the bag from me. “Ya mama only fed me once today.”
My mother shook her head, watching him go into the house. “I fed that man the bacon, egg, and cheese on a croissant that he asked for earlier. He is something else.” She picked up the shovel and set it up against the wall.
“How’s he doing today?”
“Good. We were out here doing some gardening and soaking up some sun. He wanted to help, so I let him do as much as he could remember. How’s your day going?”
“It’s good. I kinda just had a date at the diner.”
She pulled off her other glove and tossed both on the patio table. Resting her hand on her hips, she smirked. “Oh, do tell about this date you kinda had.”
“Okay. Let’s go inside though. It’s too hot out here.”
Inside, my father stood at the kitchen island, eating his food. My mother didn’t bother chastising him about getting comfortable. We just walked over to the table, and I told her about Mehki, the club, and the meet up at the diner.
“Sound like me,” my father said.
“Which part?” My mother snickered.
“The persistent part,” he replied, chewing. “That’s how I got you.”
“That is true,” she agreed. “And we met at a club. You didn’t approach me first though, baby.”
“I did.”
She laughed. “No, you didn’t. Your cousin, Al, did.”
I loved listening to them debate how their love story started, even on days when he struggled to remember who all may have been around at the time.
“Baby,” he called to her.
“Yes.”
“What time you cooking tonight? I’m a little hungry.”
“You have two plates right in front of you, honey. You can eat both,” she reminded him gently.
“Okay,” he replied lowly.
“You wanna sit down? I can put the food on a plate for you and bring it to the living room.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s cool.” He walked off, and she got up to put the food together.
I watched as she heated up the food in the microwave that he’d already been eating, plated it up, and took it over to him, along with an ice-cold drink. When she reentered the kitchen, she sat back down across from me.
“What’s wrong, Kyiris?”
“Nothing,” I said, sitting up straight in my seat.
“Lies. You my daughter.”
“You heard him say my name today?”
“I did. It’s the first time I heard him call me baby this week. He has his moments of clarity.”
“Yeah. I know I should be celebrating those times too. It’s just…” My voice cracked. “It’s still hard sometimes, ya know?”
She reached over and rubbed my arm. “I know, boo. But you gotta remember, we gotta hold on to the things that he remembers. We love him right where he is. I find joy in those moments because I know deep down that I haven’t lost him.”
“I don’t know where you get that strength from, Mommy.”
She smiled softly. “Well, other than the fact that I come from a strong family and married into one, I made vows before God, baby. And Stephan Issac Sullivan has loved me too good and too fierce for me to turn my back on him all because he can’t remember a few important dates or even who I am sometimes.
I love him still. Now, if this nigga get to thinkin’ I’m an intruder one night and knock me upside my damn head, I’ma have to rethink some shit. But until then, he got a for lifer.”
We laughed, and I wiped the tear that escaped before I could stop it.
“We good, baby,” she assured me, looking over at him. “Alzheimer’s took some of the memories, but they ain’t take my husband or your daddy. We got this.”
I nodded, appreciating the fact that I got to witness what unconditional love looked like firsthand.