Instead of doing what I was supposed to do, I took a long walk in the lovely garden on Bowery Street. Birds were singing; flowers were blooming; bees were humming. In the midst of such happiness, it was so easy not to think about all the sadness until I saw these fragile forget-me-not flowers under the shadow of plum trees.
In front of the blue sea of flowers, I found myself whispering: Forget me not, forget me not, forget me not.
According to some scientists say, the sense of smell is one of the first to fail as Alzheimer’s disease progresses. This Mother’s Day, I sincerely pray that my mom, who begins to show some early signs of memory problem, being able to smell the scent of her own daughter forever…
Please forget me not, mom.
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