Before Christmas, Before Dementia

Our first Christmas Eve together, 2005, 8:00 p.m., nine months before Romeo was diagnosed with dementia.

Outside, it's quiet, dark, cold. Inside, Romeo and I sit in bed, me reading aloud, as was our custom by now. We had been married for six days, the afterglow of that day still shimmering inside of our hearts, as well as in the snow that blanketed the ground outside.

Suddenly, I am inspired to read something completely different than our usual fare of spiritual books. I wanted to share a childlike moment with Romeo, and he was up for it. I spring from the bed, run out to the bookshelves in the living room, select an oversized copy of Clement Clarke Moore's The Night Before Christmas, or A Visit of St. Nicholas. This particular book is an antique reproduction of an 1888 McLoughlin Brothers publication. The illustrations are by William Roger Snow and conjure up embedded memories, longings, perhaps, for simpler days, sweet memories, and the magic and wonder of unconditional love.

I read the poem to Romeo, and when we are done, we sit in silence for some time, with the words echoing off the walls, the ceiling. I turn out the light, we hunker down under the covers, and fall asleep in each other's arms, content, innocent of what was in store for us less than a year in our future.