When my brother’s password reset hinged on the name of his first pet, we discovered how fragile ordinary memories can be. The milestones remain, but the small details—the cat’s name, the everyday moments—are the first to disappear. When dementia erases the past, someone else has to hold it.

In a family of six siblings, three now live with Alzheimer’s. A reflection on what it means to face mortality when memory is already slipping—and the quiet mercy that dementia sometimes spares loved ones the repeated pain of loss.