When my mom was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s at just 57, my dad looked her in the eyes and vowed to care for her the way she had always cared for us. And for the next ten years, he never wavered. Sleepless nights, meals spoon-fed, clothes changed, tears wiped away—every act of care was given with tenderness, never a complaint, only love. 💖

Even when the disease took more than memory and she moved into full-time care, he was there—every single day. Sitting by her side, brushing her hair, holding her hand, speaking to her as though she still remembered every word. To him, she was not a patient. She was his wife, his partner, his forever. 🌺

On March 22, 2016, my dad was still at her side, fingers entwined with hers, when she took her last breath. And in that sacred silence, his love spoke louder than words ever could.

His devotion taught me what true love looks like—not the easy kind, but the kind that stays, endures, and carries you through the hardest of goodbyes. I am endlessly humbled, endlessly grateful, and forever proud to call him my dad. ❤️