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Nona

Right after we swapped gifts, she asked ever so quietly what date it was and my father replied it was Christmas. I would've liked to tell her that it was her birthday, that we were celebrating her. I choked back a whimper, twelve and only just realizing what Alzheimer's really meant. The moment went as fast as it came, the little party continuing, hugs and kisses for everyone. She couldn't quite get up, but it didn't matter—when my father told her that it was Christmas, she lit up like the sun. "¿Es Navidad?" Voice shaking with incredulity. Indeed, it was.

David Salazar (he/xe/she) is in xir senior year of high school, and is trying his best. Find David online at davidvsalazar.weebly.com/; and on Twitter @smalllredboy.

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