I remember my Jason. Such a beautiful lad. He's my grandson. Blind, you know. So unfair.'
I could hear the sadness in his voice, but knew it to be softened by love.
' When my Jason was a baby I'd take his tiny hand in mine and hold him so he knew he wasn't alone.'
As this gentle man got lost in the fog of dementia I was thankful for this treasured memory.
' You okay Jay?' My mother asked from the side of the hospital bed.
I nodded, holding his frail hand softly so he knew he wasn't alone.