Why would I waste my time?” I remember standing in the dark hallway with the phone against my ear and looking back through the doorway at my grandfather, who at that exact moment lifted his eyes and found my face and mouthed, silently, thank you. He knew who I was.

He knew who all of them were, too.

That was the thing none of them ever grasped.

The illness had made him quiet.

It had not made him blind.

I used to make excuses for them, in the early months, before I understood what I was looking at.