That morning, when she tried to remember where she’d put the coffee and couldn’t recall, Jenny had to ask Daniel, her husband, where it was. A few hours later, someone asked for her phone number, and she had to think hard to remember it—it didn’t come to mind right away. And so these lapses of memory, this difficulty remembering things, began to happen on a daily basis. She started to worry, even though Daniel just laughed it off.

She had to start admitting that she wasn't young anymore, that her memory was failing. She began to worry about something worse—that disease with the unpronounceable German name. Every Sunday she looked for the crossword puzzle and the Sudoku in the newspaper; she bought word search puzzles to look for words and their meanings. Daniel just smiled and supported her.

One day he sat down with her and said, “Growing old is natural, my dear Jenny. Maybe it’s time to start simplifying things. To stop doing the things that stress us out. Would you like to move to the countryside? We could have a vegetable garden there. We could find someone to help us create a garden that you could tend. You’ve always loved flowers.” We’re past the point of dealing with complications now.” Jenny smiled, because Daniel was right, because she really liked the idea. And she still loved him as much as she did on the first day, when she knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Because often, they didn’t need many words to agree. Everything was simple with him. He knew how to find simplicity in even the most complex things.

Esa mañana cuando trató de recordar dónde había guardado el café y no se acordó Jenny tuvo que preguntarle a Daniel, a su marido, dónde estaba. Algunas horas después le pidieron su número telefónico y tuvo que pensar para acordarse, no le vino a la memoria enseguida. Y así empezaron a sucederse cotidianamente esos olvidos, esa dificultad para recordar cosas. Empezó a preocuparse, aunque Daniel se reía.

Tuvo que empezar a admitir que ya no era joven, que su capacidad para recordar estaba disminuyendo. Empezó a angustiarse por algo peor, esa enfermedad con nombre alemán impronunciable. Todos los domingos buscaba en el diario el crucigrama y el sudoku, compró sopas de letras para buscar palabras y buscar su significado. Daniel sólo sonreía y la apoyaba.

Un día se sentó con ella y le dijo: ꟷEnvejecer es natural, querida Jenny. Es quizá el momento de empezar a simplificar las cosas. Dejar de hacer las cosas que nos estresan. ¿Te gustaría mudarte al campo? Allí podemos tener un huerto. Podemos buscar a alguien que nos ayude a crear un jardín, del que podrías ocuparte. Siempre te gustaron las flores. Ya no estamos para complejidades. Jenny sonrió, porque Daniel tenía razón, porque la idea le gustaba mucho. Y seguía amándolo como el primer día, cuando supo que quería pasar con él el resto de su vida. Porque con frecuencia no hacían falta muchas palabras para ponerse de acuerdo. Todo era simple con él. A las cosas más complejas sabía encontrarle la simplicidad.