That night I returned to Singapore. I didn’t think it was a big deal as my father was 73 years old at the time and old people were supposed to forgetful, until the next day when I called my mum. Over the phone she told me that on the flight to Toronto, three of them sat side byside, with my father sitting in the middle. All of a sudden, my father looked at my sister but totally couldn't recognize her, he asked my mum, "what is the name of this young lady and why is she so nice to us"? The moment when he said this, my sister burst into tears. At that time, we haven’t heard of a disease called Alzheimers, but we realized we were starting to lose our dad day by day from that turning point.
Fast forward to September 20xx, my father has been with a nursing home in Xiamen for close to 4 years. He is very skinny butstill survives, thanks to the professional care provided there. Over the years I flew back to visit him from time to time. He couldn’t tell my name but Icould tell that he probably knew I am someone important for him, as he always grabbedmy hands tightly.
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