Romeo had a "waking" dream, as he does from time to time. "It was about the stages of love," he said. "It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.""Tell me about the dream," I said.
"I don't remember it."
"Tell me anything you remember, any small detail."
"It was beautiful."
"Yes?"
"It was about love in the spirit realm."
"Ah, not romantic love?"
"No."
"Agape?"
"Yes. It was beautiful. It's really all there is, you know, this love."
Romeo drifted off with his sketchy yet potent memories of the beauty of spiritual love, leaving me holding his hand and looking out to the darkening evening sky, grateful for his insights, his love, and the presence of his spirit. Always present with me, his spirit that does not have dementia.
"Agape," he said, "is more beautiful than romantic love. It prevails over everything."
Romeo is present whenever he speaks of spiritual matters. He's always right there, right here, on the topic. The dementia hasn't taken that from him. However, if the day ever comes when Romeo can't speak of such things, I know that his love, his spirit, which has marinated in love since the beginning of time, still remains. He's told me so, and I believe him.
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