My grandfather worked for Colgate Palmolive for many many years, running their R&D department and filing a whole slew of patents.  Growing up, I got to use the sparkle toothpaste before it was on the market, because I had access to the pre-sales samples of the stuff.  It would come in a white tube, with a number or a sticker on it.  The name Colgate was nowhere on it.  It was just formula number blah blah blah.

These days, my grandfather suffers from dementia, and his cognitive functions have pretty much all declined.  He is a sweet, kind, and pleasant person to be around, but he doesn’t remember me any more.  The last time she visited, he wasn’t quite sure who my mother was.  But he has been able to cling on to the memory of my grandmother this whole time, always knowing who she was.  Last week, he forgot.

As they were getting into bed, he asked her—being a polite man, getting into bed with a mysterious woman—if they were married.  She said that yes, they were, and that they had been married for over half a century.  This memory has continued to fade though, and two nights ago, he looked over at her, took her hand, and proposed to her.  She said yes.

Ruth and Sid