She remembers their first meeting like the back of her hand. No matter how many years passed she remembered every little thing about that first meeting.  He had been so nice, smiling so wide like he was as he slid into the seat next to her at the diner counter. She had seen him around school sure, but never so close and not even a word had ever been shared between them. She remembers how his hair was pushed back, how his eyes crinkled when he said hello, and how his shirt hugged his body in just the right way. She had asked for her name, which she shyly gave with a soft smile. He had asked if he could buy her a milkshake, and it was the first one of many shared between them.  
 
She remembers how they went to the dance together their senior year. She had worn a beautiful peach dress. Her hair had been curled and clipped with pretty little matching jewels. His arms had been warm around her as he pulled her close. The music was soft, as they gently swayed to the melody. It was then under those lights that he leaned it to softly kiss her. They had kissed before, but that one was always fresh in her mind. 
 
Every time she looked down at her left hand, at that beautiful ring he had spent most of his savings on just for her, she remembers how down he was that night so long ago. He had taken her back to that diner. They had planned this night for weeks. With his University classes and hers, they rarely had time for each other. She remembers asking him what was wrong, and him almost breaking down in front of her. He had been called to fight in the war. She had known this was coming. She had heard the news and it had been only a matter of time, but she had never thought that he would be called to go. He had told her that he had planned to ask her to marry him, but that there was no point in making her a bride to just make her a widow when he left. 

 
He had gone off to the war. For 2 and a half years. He wrote when he could. She had every night before bed and then sent it off the next morning. She remembers the moment that the letters stopped coming. The moment her mother told her that he was probably gone and that it was time to move on, but she hadn’t.  
 
She remembers looking out of that living room window to see those two soldiers, and she remembers quite well that dreaded feeling that covered her heart. She had opened that door thinking the worst, but when she opened that letter it wasn’t a death notice. He was coming home. 
 
She remembers standing in that train station, hands clenching that letter she received 2 weeks prior. There had been other women there, not many but some. Some had been mothers, and others were like her. She remembers very vividly that moment the soldiers began making their way through that giant arch. Every single face that hadn’t been the one she had only seen in pictures for those 2 and half years had left her heart beating a little harder. She remembers that feeling well, but it was that moment, that single amazing moment that she saw him round that corner on his crutches that she remembers most. That beautiful smile that spread across his face the moment he had caught her running toward him through the crowd. A laugh had broken through his sobs as he held her close. He had made a joke about wanting to kneel and propose finally but that he couldn’t get up. She just had shaken her head and kissed him hard. She knew she would marry him no matter how he managed to ask her. 
 
Their wedding had been one of the best moments of her life. Her dress had been beautiful, but he had always said it was her that made it beautiful. They had said their vows, kissed each other, and started their lives together. It had taken them so long, so much heartache, that when they finally had been able to be with each other fully, it was a moment both thought they would never forget. 
 
Their first daughter had been born that fall. Named after his mother. Their son 2 years after that. Named after the man responsible for him still being there through the war. Their second daughter came a little after that. It was all she had ever asked for. A family. A loving husband. They had planned to grow old together and retell their stories to their grandkids.  
 
She never thought it would be him she was telling them to every day it seemed.   
 
She heard the sounds of him waking upstairs and she smiled. Their eldest would be here soon. Bringing their new grandchild. Her smile fell the moment she realized she would have to see the disappointment in her daughters eyes the moment her own father didn’t remember her name anymore. She knew that the woman tried, so so hard to mask it, but it always fell through the cracks and it was seen. Always. 
 
The stairs creaked as he shuffled down them slowly, and she set the glass she had been cleaning for his orange juice on the counter. When she turned he was standing in the doorway, the same confused expression on his face.  
 
"Who are you… where.. where am I?" His voice was still the same to her. Even if it had changed with age. 
 
"I’m Minjung. I live here with you, remember?" She asked softly as she placed his breakfast on the counter.  
 
He blinked at her for a moment before shuffling to the seat. He looked up at her for a moment before looking back down and mumbling, “Right. Minjung. You live here with me.” After a moment he looked back up at her. “And my name?” 
 
"Jinki sweetie." 
 
"Right…Jinki.. Lee Jinki…" His voice was no louder than a mutter. 
 
"That’s right. I hope you like your eggs this morning." She said with a smile, the same warm one she always gave him.  
 
His eyes lit up as he took the fork. He hummed. Just like he always did. After he was done she set the plates in the sink and turned the water on slowly. She heard him behind her. She knew he was trying to piece everything together. He remembered the necessities, like how to use the bathroom, and eat. He knew how to bathe himself and walk without any help. He liked to walk in the garden, and work beside her in the late afternoons as it began to cool. He loved to make jokes that he thought he just made up but she had heard a million times before. 
 
But she loved it no matter how many times the joke rushed past his lips. She still laughed. She still smiled up at him, and his smile still took her breath away. “I’ll be right back.” He mumbled, and she smiled softly to herself as she heard him leave. She knew what was going to come next, and it still made her almost want to cry every time it happened. 
 
She finished washing the plate and cup he had used, and was walking over to grab her book when she heard the front door opening and closing again. A moment later he came walking into the kitchen, bouquet of flowers tightly clasped in his wrinkled well worn hand. He had a huge smile on his face as he presented them to her.  
 
"You’re very pretty." The look in his eyes made her want to cry, but she didn’t.  
 
"Thank you." 
 
"This might sound crazy. I see your ring, but why don’t you run away with me hmm? We can get married and you can be my wife. How does that sound?" 
 
Her fingers wrapped around his as she smiled, “I already am Jinki.” 
 
"What?" 
 
She gently grasped his fingers and lifted his left hand to show him his ring. Her smile was warm as she said, “We already are married.” 
 
Just like every day for the last couple months the smile that spread across his face broke her heart but mended it at the same time. It was so bright, so proud, and so much like the man she had begun to lose 5 years ago that it hit her chest like a fist. “I did very well for myself then.”  
 
Before she could say anything their doorbell rang. His eyes widened and his head snapped toward the sound. He looked panicked, but she just gently squeezed his hand and smiled. “That’s someone here to visit us. Would you like to go see them?” 
 
"Who is it?" 
 
"Eunmi." She wondered if hearing the name would spark something in his mind, and she watched him fight to remember something for a moment before he looked at her almost pleadingly.  
 
"Should I know who that is?" His voice was so pained. She knew just how much this frustrated him, back when he started to lose small memories that he really hadn’t thought he’d miss. Now it was worse, because he didn’t know why he was frustrated. Why he was like this. 
 
She took the flowers and placed them in a nice vase with water before carefully taking his hand. “You will.” 
 
"I.. I don’t remember…." 
 
She knew that he would when they went to bed that night. She would spend the rest of the afternoon laying with him in their hammock in the backyard, the one that was special enough so they didn't flip and break a hip, and tell him all about their lives. She would receive a kiss under those big trees that they had planted so long ago when they first bought this house. They would go to bed, and in the morning he wouldn’t remember a thing. Not even his own name. 
 
His eyes, though confused and aged, were the same ones she looked into almost 60 years ago in that diner. “You will. You have me remember?” 

She knew just how hard it was for him. She knew every time he finally remembered everything as it snapped into place out on that hammock every night. She knew. She knew by those tears as he clung to her. He would hold her, just like he used to before all this happened and tell her that he loved her. He would say thank you. She always used to wonder for what, until he told her one time. For being my memory when mine fails. My living memory.

 
He did remember then for a moment. She was his life. Always there. Always waiting to help. It was gone a moment later, but his eyes changed. They weren’t as pained, weren’t as hopeless. Weren’t as empty. “Okay.”  
 
That’s all she needed to go open the door to greet their daughter.