In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay's first paragraph.
"I see you sitting there looking out the window, wondering if you'll remember me today. You look at me and stare, and question yourself, "Do I know her?" I smile and you smile back. I ask how you are, and you whisper, "l don't know . . . I guess I am all right." I try to talk to you, but you barely respond. I try to bring up the good memories that I have of us together, but you don't remember any of them, not a single one. You just sit there and smile, and rub my hand. I still don't believe that this could happen to you. I don't know why, and to me, it just looks like you're suffering. I sit there quietly, looking at the other elderly people sitting in the room. I look back at you and tears start to form in my eyes. I think to myself, you're already dead, you don't remember me, you don't remember anything, but you can't help it and it's not your fault."
"You're Still Beautiful,"
The Angle: Vol. 2002
, Article 21.
Available at: http://fisherpub.sjfc.edu/angle/vol2002/iss4/21