He Still Knows Her

The man has stopped by Krispy Kreme
to buy his wife her favorite doughnut.
Their marriage had seemed a perfect dream
for sixty years. He loves her, no matter what.

For after six decades of sharing marital bliss,
that thief Alzheimer’s cruelly stole her mind.
Nowadays, each morning he is sure not to miss
her breakfast, being there with her, loving, kind.

This morning he has gotten behind, running late.
Now spying his next-door neighbor ahead in line,
“Would you mind? The nursing home won’t wait.”
“Sure, although your missing breakfast would be fine,

for she would never know. It is really such a shame
that she does not remember who you are.” Now, his
eyes glisten; he answers softly, “I love her the same.
She may not know who I am, but I know who she is.”

Thus, every day he visits with his wife’s outer shell,
wondering if she knows somewhere inside her mind
that he is there, that he loves her still. Who can tell?
Until her death their lives shall remain entwined.


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