“This year, the snow in Bankshire was especially beautiful. After the snow stopped, the sun rose, and a rainbow appeared in the sky.”
“I still want to watch the snow with you. This year, next year, and the year after that.”
“Elisa, do you remember the vows you made to me at our wedding? The last sentence, ‘From the beginning to the end of our lives,’ but our hair hasn’t even turned white yet…”
“I’ll carry you home… carry you home…” Louis repeated these four words in his mouth, hoping that Elisa was just tired and asleep. He hoped that when they got home, she would be as gentle as usual, pinching his earlobes and calling him an old man with affection.
Watching Elisa’s limp hand swaying weakly by his side, Louis’s head buzzed and he bit his lower lip tightly, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Winnie choked back tears as she ran to Louis’s side, looking at Elisa’s closed eyes. She sobbed, “Dad, Mom has left us…”
Left? But where can she go, she has always been right behind him?
“Shh.” Louis lowered his voice. “Be quiet, don’t wake your mother. She’s just resting on my shoulder, asleep. I’ll carry her home now…”
Winnie stopped in her tracks, unable to hold back her grief any longer. She threw herself into her brother’s arms, holding him tightly as she cried silently, her shoulders trembling.
“Mom has left… we no longer have Mom…”
Yes, we no longer have Mom.
Eli’s eyes turned red, her throat tight with pain.
Louis carried Elisa back home, his steps faltering, until they reached their house.
Elisa really looked like she was asleep, except her pale face, cold body, and the absence of breath or heartbeat. Apart from these differences, it was not much different from her usual sleeping form.
She closed her eyes, traces of tears still visible at the corners, a peaceful smile on her lips. She left quietly this time, without pain, like an ordinary person completing her life.
Elisa always liked bright red. The New Year decorations they ordered had arrived – red couplets, red lanterns, window flowers – all in celebratory red. But this year, the red color felt desolate; they were left untouched in the utility room. This New Year, they had no use for them.
…
On the day Elisa was buried, many people came – actors she had worked with, friends she had shared laughter with, business partners, relatives they had visited before, and the people Elisa had helped over the years. They all came, holding a chrysanthemum flower in their hands, creating a golden path of flowers.
Louis remained silent, so quiet that it was easy to overlook his presence. He stood at a distance, watching as the casket was lowered, the tombstone placed, and the mourners filed past in the dim afternoon light, until the last person left, leaving only Louis behind.
In the quiet graveyard, only his sobs could be heard. The more he cried, the louder it became until he fell to his knees, head bowed, on the verge of collapse and uncontrollably weeping. He cried until he lost his voice, feeling as if a thorn was stuck in his throat, causing a sharp pain each time he gasped for breath.
The man who was always composed, calm in the face of challenges, and steady in his actions, was now kneeling on the ground, crying out loud for the first time.
He reached out to the photo on the tombstone, wiping away the snowflakes stuck to it. The stone was cold, and no matter how warm his hands felt, they couldn’t warm it up.
“Elisa, are you cold?” Louis looked at the portrait, but this time, there was no answer.
…
Three days after Elisa’s death, Louis, who had not slept at all, ended up in the hospital. He slept for twelve full hours and woke up without saying a word, sitting on the bed, staring ahead. Suddenly, he remembered something and stood up abruptly.
“I need to go home and cook…”
Winnie, who had been watching him, was startled by his sudden movement. She quickly came forward and held his hand. “Dad, you can’t leave the hospital now. The doctor hasn’t finished your full-body checkup.”
Louis struggled to break free from her grip, turning his head to look at the girl holding his hand. Frowning, with a puzzled look in his eyes, he asked after a moment, “Who are you? And who is your father? Why are you randomly calling people?”
Winnie’s pupils shrank, her already red eyes becoming even redder. “Dad, what’s wrong with you? I’m Winnie, your daughter. Why… why don’t you recognize me anymore?”
Louis had a gut feeling that the girl was sick, he had to go back home, back to cook for Elisa. It must be late by now, and she must be hungry.
He wanted to leave, but the girl in front of him didn’t want him to go. Just then, Eli arrived with a doctor and seeing Louis’s condition, she quickly intervened and injected a sedative.
After a series of examinations, it was determined that Louis had Alzheimer’s disease, a form of dementia that often affects the elderly. Once diagnosed, there was no turning back.
Memory loss was the core symptom of this disease. For example, Louis had forgotten his two children, forgotten what year or day it was, forgotten his age. But no matter how much he forgot, there was one person he could never forget – Elisa, the person he had loved his entire life.
Louis refused to stay in the hospital, vehemently denying that he was ill. Even though there didn’t seem to be many problems with his body, he and his sister decided to take him home.
Back at home, Louis wandered around the house aimlessly, calling out “Elisa” repeatedly, even though there was no response. Eventually, his voice grew tired, and he sat on the couch, lost in thought.
His memory came and went, leaving a gaping hole in his heart. It felt like he had lost a piece of himself, a sense of emptiness that he couldn’t bear to acknowledge.
Loving Elisa and caring for her had become second nature to him. Even with Alzheimer’s, he had forgotten everything, but he always remembered these ingrained habits.
He woke up early in the morning to cook, with sounds of clattering dishes echoing from the kitchen. His sister and brother rushed downstairs upon hearing the commotion.
Downstairs, only the kitchen light was on. Louis had forgotten to turn on the exhaust fan, and the spicy dish he was cooking filled the room with choking fumes. He was coughing non-stop inside.
The usually tidy Louis, who kept the kitchen spotless, now left it in a mess. With his memory failing, he often forgot to add the right seasonings, spilling something here or knocking something over there.
After finally managing to cook a dish, he tasted it and found it too salty. Elisa wouldn’t like it.
The trash can in the kitchen was full, filled with his failed attempts at cooking.
“Dad,” a sudden voice came from behind.
Louis turned around to see his supposed children standing there.
“Why are you still here in my house?” he asked.
Winnie said, “This is our home, Dad. How can you forget again? I’m your daughter Winnie, and this is my brother Elias, your son.”