A soft-spoken yet vibrant woman who has been diagnosed with early onset dementia has dedicated more than one of the walls in her home to leaving notes for herself. Of these notes there is one that stands out to me always, like the brightest star on a night of a million stars. It reads, "A friend hears the song in my heart and sings it to me when my memory fails."
That wall represents what her mind used to be and the chaos of the scattered, mostly illegible notes clearly indicates its current condition.
I love her, so as I listen for what remains of that beautiful song I dedicate it all to my own jumbled array of thought and memory that I might be counted among her friends when the slate is left utterly and hopelessly blank.
... and inevitably it becomes a part of my own melody.