As we boarded the train back home, I realized his Alzheimer’s was worsening, but didn’t know how to tell him, we had just been to the concert. I remembered his excitement when I told him about the Pink Floyd concert and how he had been looking forward to it for so long.
The concert was everything he had hoped for, but as the night wore on, I saw his confusion growing. He seemed to forget why we were there and why he was so excited. I tried to keep him focused on the music, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.
When the concert was over, he seemed to have no recollection of what had just happened. He was quiet on the way home, and I could see the sadness in his eyes. I wanted to tell him that he had seen his favorite band live, but I knew it would only make him more confused.
We arrived home and my grandfather went to bed. I stayed up late, thinking about how much he had looked forward to this night and how it had ended in such sadness. I wished there was something I could do to make things better, but all I could do was wait and hope that the memories of this night would stay with him until his last days.