My wife’s handwriting is disappearing from the shopping list

Dear Delyara, My wife has Parkinson’s disease. She has always written the shopping list. It is one of those tiny divisions of marriage no one formally assigns. I cook; she writes the list. Over the last year, her handwriting has become smaller and harder to read. Today, the word “tomatoes” trailed downward until the final letters disappeared into a shaky line. I asked what it said. She stared at the paper, then said, “You know perfectly well.” She was embarrassed. I pretended I did and bought tomatoes because that seemed statistically safe. At home, she laughed when she saw them. The word had been toothpaste. We both laughed until she began crying. Then I cried too. Not because of tomatoes. Because handwriting is such an intimate movement. I have seen her name on birthday cards, notes tucked in lunches, angry messages left on the kitchen table. Her hand has been speaking to me for thirty-four years. Now the letters are becoming harder for her body to deliver. We have started using a shared phone list, which is practical and efficient and makes me sad every time I open it. Tonight, the paper list is in my pocket. I can barely read it. I know exactly who wrote it.