The Ghost Who Loved Them Most

The third time I forgot where I lived because of Alzheimer's, my son finally broke.

He had been searching for me for three agonizing days. When he found me, he collapsed on the floor, weeping uncontrollably. His tears soaked the stack of missing-person flyers in his hands.

"Mom, can't you just stay home? Please!"

"This is the third time this month! If this keeps happening, I'm going to get fired!"

"Honestly, if you were just gone, we wouldn't all be suffering like this!"

He slammed the door and stormed out. In that fleeting second, my fogged brain suddenly cleared.