I remember the very first day I met my Pat.
When she smiled, her eyes smiled too. Her voice was soft and kind, the kind of voice that makes you feel safe without knowing why. In that moment, I knew—deep in my heart—that I needed to know her, to walk life beside her.
That beginning turned into a lifetime.
We fell in love, became engaged, married, and were blessed with two beautiful children. Together, we built a life filled with laughter, ordinary moments, and memories that quietly became everything. More than 35 years passed, almost without us noticing.
Over time, I began to see small changes. Pat would forget things. Moments slipped away from her. But she was still smiling, still gentle, still herself. Whenever I asked, she would say, “I’m just fine.” And because I wanted to believe her—and because love sometimes chooses hope over fear—I let it go.
Now I sit across from her as she watches me with a quiet, distant gaze. I would give anything to hear her speak my name again, to watch her dance and sing around the house, or see her in the kitchen making her favorite cookies. I miss her voice. I miss us.
I have old photos tucked away and videos stored on media I can no longer play. What I wouldn’t give to simply press a button—to let Pat hear her own voice, to see familiar faces, to hear the laughter of friends and family who love her so deeply. Maybe, just maybe, seeing herself and hearing those voices would help her remember. And even if only for a moment, that would be everything.
If you are reading this, please hear me.
Capture the moments of your loved ones now—their stories, their laughter, their voices—while you still can. One day, those memories may become the bridge that brings comfort, connection, and recognition.
I recently discovered www.yourdaysyourlegacy, where stories can be created from old photos, videos can be rescued from outdated media, and a family’s history can be lovingly preserved. With the click of a remote, a loved one facing dementia or Alzheimer’s can watch themselves, hear familiar voices, and feel surrounded by love. I only wish I had known sooner. I missed so many of our days.
Please don’t wait.
Preserve the stories. Capture the voices. Hold on to the moments—so they can hold on to you when memory begins to fade.
Because love, even when memories slip away, deserves to be remembered.
