“Slow down, George!” Seventy-three-year-old Martha griped as they rounded the corner on a winding Michigan highway through the Hiawatha National Forest.
He tapped the brake and adjusted the speed on the cruise control. George looked over and smiled at Martha’s frail face. After forty-six years of marriage, her mind was slowly disappearing due to Alzheimer’s, and it scared him. It scared him more than the two combat tours he did in Vietnam. She was his life and stood by his side through war and the seven years he had spent drowning out the memories with alcohol. Now it was his turn to be there for her.
Martha sat up and pointed ahead at a small white poodle trotting down the side of the highway. “George, watch out for the dog.”
George let off the gas and pressed the brake pedal. “I see i
