El canto del cisne

Dad forgot everything.

I forgot about him.

I set out to write a book about my mom and dad's love story only when Dad's illness was advanced enough for me to understand, or think I understood at that point, that he was fading away. Seeing a loved one fade away, dissolve, is terrifying. It's a path to the abyss.

My mom and dad met one night in 1969 in São Paulo. She lived in Brazil and was 17 years old; he lived in Argentina and was 27. After exchanging letters every day for two weeks, my father traveled to see her to propose that they spend the rest of their lives together. She accepted, and so they did.

Fifteen years ago, my dad was diagnosed with a slow form of Alzheimer's. During those years, my mom dedicated her life to caring for him and researching the disease and its processes in the hope of finding a cure. She also took it upon herself to organize the new dynamics their lives went through so that they could do, as far as possible, the things that brought them back to life. I am grateful to them.