“Maple Drive 80”, the woman said from the back seat of the taxi. The driver could tell that the middle-aged couple he just picked up was in no better mood than himself. Not surprising in this shitty weather, he thought, and prepared himself for another ride in awkward silence with poorly tipping customers.



“That’s the retirement home, right?”, he said.

“Yes, that’s the place,” the woman responded.

The taxi started moving and nobody said a word. Against better knowledge, the driver tried to start a conversation.

“Visiting parents?”

The man swallowed and nodded faintly.

“Something like that.”

His wife touched his arm softly and looked at him.

“You can do this, John.”

John nodded again and stared out the window. Minutes passed by, driving through empty, rainy streets in uncomfortable silence.

“What if she doesn’t recognize me anymore?”, John said.

His wife held his hand.

“I’m sure she will. And even if not, you still need to see her. For yourself.”

John nodded again.

“It’s just so hard. I never should have allowed them to take her.”

His wife caressed his shoulder.

“You didn’t have a choice, John. It wasn’t your fault. You’re a good person.”

John stared out of the window again. They passed an empty playground. Barren trees, muddy lawn, a rusting swing set. He turned away and stared at his knees.

“Then you’re the only person who thinks that.”

His wife grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him around.

“Stop this now, John. You’re a good son, a good husband and a good father. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

John nodded weakly.

“I just wonder how long she will still see me like this. She will forget me, bit by bit. Until only an abstract idea of me is left. Until she starts wondering why I’m not there with her. And then she will start to hate me.”

“That’s why you have to keep visiting her, John. Whatever she says.”

John nodded and sunk in thought for the rest of the trip.

Eventually, the taxi pulled over on the sidewalk, right in front of the retirement home. The driver had done his best to ensure that they wouldn’t need to walk further than necessary in this nasty weather. Maybe they would appreciate this with a nice, fat tip. Probably not.



“81 Maple Drive. The retirement home is right here.”

The woman looked at John. He still stared out of the window, at the apartment house across the street.

“Can you just wait here for a minute please?”

The driver shrugged.

“The taximeter is still running. It’s your money.”

The woman touched her husband’s arm again. John was drawn out of his thoughts and took a deep breath. He nodded and took out his phone.

“Hey my little princess, I’m out here in the taxi. Can you come to the window?”, he wrote.

A moment later, a little face appeared in the window of the house John was staring at. It was hard to make out her features from here, but John was sure that she was smiling. He waved at her, she waved back.

“I love you,” he wrote.

“I love you too daddy,” she wrote back.

He couldn’t hold back his tears anymore. He touched the glass of the taxi window and imagined it was her face.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he said to the taxi driver. “Please bring us back home before my ex-wife sees me here.”

The taxi driver swallowed and thought about his own children. He switched the taximeter off for the way back.