I just had to share this. :-)
Last night, I took my dad out to dinner before his haircut.
As he sat there making his way through a hearty portion of chicken parmigiana, we got on the subject of the day he and my mother met, in 1955.
Dad, ever the brilliant storyteller, was in his element. He described how his first cousin, a classmate of Mom's, told him he had to meet her friend "she's a knockout!".
My grandfather held political dances at Newark Symphony Hall back then, and they were to meet at one such event. Dad was 27; Mom was just 16 (attending with a chaperone, my grandmother). Good thing they lied about their ages! That dance led to an 8-year courtship and then marriage.
I'd heard the story many times before, but it was pure gold to hear it again. It was profound especially now, since the Alzheimer's type dementia diagnosis. (I had recorded him telling these tales back in the '90s, and they have since been digitized.)
As I listened with amused interest, I briefly wondered whether I should have been recording him with my phone. Then I just sat back, smiled, and realized that some things are just meant to be cherished in the moment and mentally filed away.
As his daughter and caregiver, I am blessed to be able to talk to him about all of those special memories. And with the expressions, mannerisms and humor of Dad's typical verbal recollections, it is always as entertaining as the very first time.