“My wife had been in Alzheimer’s care for a little over a year when Covid hit,” the man said.

“About three or four months into her stay here, I realized that I irritated her, just by my appearance. And to tell the truth, seeing her made me upset too.“

“Here’s an example. One night when I went to see her, I found her in a commons area where a Johnny Cash album was playing on the computer screen. “

“Hey Ree,” I said.

“What do you want?” she answered.

“Nothing, really, I replied. Just came to visit.”

“I’m talking to my girl-friend right now.”

“That’s OK,” I said “I’ll just listen to Johnny and June.”

After the Cash’s finished “Jackson,” I stood up and said, “Your boys sent you something.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll show you,” I answered. “Close your eyes.”

She closed them, but then peeped as I handed her a tube of “Chapette.”

She stretched her lips over her teeth as when she used lipstick, then made several passes with the lip balm.

Then she offered her gift to her friend. “You want some of this?” she asked. “It makes your lips feel so good.”

“No thank you.’

“Oh, try it.”

After her friend took the tube and applied the “Chapette,” Ree smiled.

“Feels better, doesn’t it?”

“It really does,” her friend said.

Then Ree looked at me.

“Don’t’ you have somewhere to go?” she asked. “You need to get out of here.”

“I just thought I’d listen to another Johnny Cash song.”

“It’s time for you to hit the road,” she said.

I listened to Johnny for a few more minutes, then picked up my coat, and stood up.

“I think I’ll hit the road now,” I said. “See you later.”

She did not reply.

“So I never went to a single window visit,” he continued. “Both of us seemed happier when we did not see one another.”

“Alzheimer’s is like that,” he said. “She loves her sons, gets along with the other residents pretty well. But she does not get along with me.” He paused.

“I still bring apples and bananas… leave them for her at the door. But I tell whoever answers ‘Tell Ree these are from her boys.’”

On the Sunday after Easter, thirteen months since I saw Ree last, I decided to visit in person. My younger son was unable to come that day, and I didn’t want Matt to keep going in alone.

“You sure you want to do this, Dad,” Matt asked as we neared the front door.

“No. I’m not sure at all,” I said. “But I need to go. It’ll be the first time since March of 2020.”

We donned our masks, before getting our temperature taken, and signing in. When we saw Ree, she said ‘Hey,’ to Matt. Then she looked at me. “

“Do I know you?”

I lifted my mask.

“’Griff,” she called out, with a huge smile.

“Then Matt gave her the bag we brought and we walked with her and a girl-friend, down the hall to another gathering spot.

“There she shared her apple, her candy, and her conversation with Evelyn. Even though she concentrated on visiting with Evelyn, her smiles told us she was glad to have both of us there.

When we stood to leave, Ree remained in her seat, but smiled and called, “Thank you for my stuff.’

“Matt, that was not what I expected.” I said as we walked to the parking lot. “She seems like a totally different person.”

“She really does, Dad,” Matt replied. “I did not know why last Sunday. But now I do.”

“Why?”

“On Easter, when I took her that basket we made, and you stayed in the car…?”

“Yes….?”

“When I came back, I couldn’t tell you what happened.” He paused. “But after seeing Mom today, Now I can.”

“What happened?”

“When I came in that Sunday, Mom was not in her room. I got a staff member to help me look in every open room, then in a room whose door was closed. When the staff person opened it, there Mom was…lying on the bed… beside a man.”

“What did you say?”

“Mom was lying on the bed… beside a man.”

“They both had their clothes on,” Matt continued,” but they were lying on the bed together.”

“She’s got a boyfriend?”

“Pretty sure.”

“I don’t know how to react, Matt,” I said.

“It’s pretty common with Alzheimer’s patients,” Matt added.

“But she’s still married.”

“Dad, I’ve thought about this all week… decided that the most important thing for Mom is to be happy.” He paused. “I wish it was in another way.”

We rode silently for a while.

“Dad, you remember the formula for a good life? ” Matt asked.

“I do.”

“… that all we need is to make a spark of light each day?”

“One spark’s enough…”

“I asked myself ‘would the amount of light in the world be greater if Mom didn’t have a boyfriend?’”

“Judging from the way she’s changed,“ I answered, “I guess there’d be less light. But still…” I broke off in mid-sentence.

“Rationally, I’m with you, Son,” I said after a while. “Though we’ve not had a marriage for years, I still care about her.” I paused again.

“It’s right for her to have some joy. But my heart’s not ready yet.”

“She’s moved on Dad,” Matt smiled. Maybe you should too.”

A few days later we rode in the car again.

“Ree’s suffered for a very long time,” I said, “Now she’s the happiest I’ve seen her in years. “

“It’s only right for us to end our marriage,” I continued, “and I’ll have to find a way to take care of her.” I paused.

“But I will not keep her from her joy.”

Matt leaned up and looked through the windshield.

“Did you see that?” he smiled.

“What?”

“I think I just saw a spark of light.”