This 6-minute video documents an unusually good visit with my father. When I arrived, I found my sister was already there.

Bonnie and I agreed that he was more alert and able to interact than he has been in some months. He displayed a sense of humor, and was able to dredge up some detailed memories of people and places dating back to his high school days, more than 75 years ago.

And he looked remarkably good, which led to my best line: “Yes, the hair color is natural. And, no, I didn’t inherit it.”

But I noticed some contrary signs. Although he remembers and can identify people in the photo of his high school graduating class, he doesn’t seem to remember specifics of his family back in Long Beach, California.

When I suggested he say hello to his family over there, he looked at the camera and said: “Hello, people in Long Beach. I’m told I’m supposed to be interested in you.”

That was painful, although he said it with a smile and an accompanying chuckle.

Then there was a brief moment as the tray with his dinner was brought in. Remember, by this time Bonnie and I had been there talking with him for over half an hour. So the tray arrives. He looks up at the nursing assistant who brought it in, and he asks: “Is…Ian and Bonnie coming?”

In that moment, he has forgotten that we’re already there with him. Or perhaps its more like having entered a parallel universe where he’s focused on his meal and we don’t exist.

But in this other universe, we’re sitting alongside the bed where we’ve been interacting with him for a while, and we both respond. “This is for you, it’s your dinner,” I said.

He looked at us and seems to realize the disconnect that had just happened. It flashes on his face as those moments collide in his consciousness. Then, briefly, he closes his eyes. It’s a poignant second in which he accepts the realization. Seems to get a grip. And moves on.