1 . Within two years of first showing signs of memory loss, Peter Marshall had to give up work as early onset Alzheimer’s began to take hold.

His wife Lisa started a blog called “Oh Hello Alzheimer’s” to help her cope with the progressive ________ of her husband's fading memory. “ I get ________ every day from people saying, ‘Thank you —now I don’t feel so alone’,” she said.

As the disease ________ , Peter’s memory ________ faded and he began to refer to Lisa as his "favourite person”. Then, one day last year, they were watching a wedding ________ on television when Peter suddenly looked at his wife and said, “Let’s do it!” “Well, OK, we should get married then,” she told him.

The next day, ________ , Peter appeared to have forgotten all about it. Still, with the 20^th________ of their wedding approaching this year, the idea seemed to make sense to Lisa in the face of her husband’s rapid ________ . Sarah, Lisa’s daughter from a marriage before she met Peter, helped organize the event.   “I knew that my stepdad, who I am very close with, was there through some of the ________ times of my life.”

When Lisa joined her husband to ________ vows for the second time, his delight was clear for all to see. “It was just magical — straight out of a ________ .” she said.

The music ________ the theme of the day: a saxophonist played Unforgettable as Lisa walked down the aisle.

“There wasn’t a dry eye, and I was ________ .” Lisa said. “I hadn’t seen Peter that happy in a long time.” As they danced while guests ________ . Lisa said her husband ________ a few words in her ear. “Thank you for staying,” he said.

As a young boy, I was carefree. Every vacation I looked forward to two things—seeing my grandpa and hearing his wonderful stories. My grandpa was a very good storyteller. He had worked various odd jobs when he was young and wove his adventures and misadventures into fantastic tales. These wonderful tales colored my childhood.

As I grew up, I had to admit that Grandpa’s stories went on a little long, even a little boring and gradually lost their magic. However, not wanting to upset him, my brother and I would sometimes take turns sitting in the living room, listening to grandpa tell his stories.

When my grandpa was approaching 91, he suffered from serious memory-loss. It was kind of what doctors called dementia (痴呆), probably the earliest stage of Alzheimer’s disease. Following the doctor’s directions, we moved him into a Sunrise Assisted Living Community, where he could get a better care. After that, grandpa hardly came to our house.

One weekend before my grandpa’s birthday, I came to visit him. Seeing grandpa sitting in his armchair, dull-looking, I was consumed with mixed feelings. I wheeled grandpa to the sunshine in the courtyard, talking to him. He couldn’t express himself clearly and spoke in short bursts, but I listened to him patiently and carefully just as I used to be a little boy.

It was then that I noticed a shadow box with some old and yellowish photos in it. I picked one up, in which my brother, several boys in our neighborhood, and I were playing basketball with grandpa cheering us on twenty years before. My mind flashed back to those beautiful memories. Back then, Grandpa was in good physical condition and we were all wearing basketball jerseys, playing and laughing with abandon. I presented the photo to my grandpa, pointing at each member and reminding him of their names. Incredibly, grandpa could speak out the name of every player. I even caught a soft light in grandpa’s eyes and a smile on his lips.

A bright idea for grandpa’s birthday came to my mind.

Seeing “the same players” playing there, grandpa seemed to have thought of something.

In 1985 my parents made the big move from Illinois, to southern Califormia, along with three very tiny children and all their household possessions. My mother had carefully wrapped and packed four boxes of her mother’s hand-painted dinner china. Grandmother had painted this lovely set herself, choosing a forget-me-not pattern (勿忘我图案).

Unfortunately, something happened during the move. One box of the china didn’t make it. It never arrived at our new house. So my mother had only three-quarters of the set — she had plates of different sizes and some serving pieces, but missing were the cups and saucers (茶碟) and the bowls. Often at family gatherings or when we would all sit down for a Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, my mother would say something about the missing china and how she wished it had survived the trip.

When my mother died I inherited Grandmother’s china. I, too, used the set on many special occasions, and I, too, wondered what had happened to the missing box.

I love to visit flea markets (跳蚤市场), hunting for treasures. It’s great fun to walk up and down the streets early in the morning, watching as the vendors (摊主) spread their wares on the ground.

I hadn’t been to a flea market in over a year when, one Sunday in 2013, I got the itch to go. So I crawled out of bed at 5 a.m., and drove an hour to the Giant Rose Bowl Flea Market in another town. I was looking around and after a couple of hours I was thinking about leaving. I rounded the last corner and took a few steps down the street when I noticed some china spread on the floor. I saw that it was hand-painted china...With forget-me-nots! I raced over to look at it more closely, and picked up a cup and saucer...Forget-me-nots! Exactly like Grandmother’s china, with the same delicate strokes (笔画) and the same thin gold bands around the edges. I looked at the rest of the items-there were the cups! The saucers! The bowls! It was Grandmother’s china!

The vendor had noticed my excitement.

I left the Flea Market with my amazing treasure.

6 . Mack was watching an interesting soccer match on television. He was thirsty for ________ such a soccer uniform and told his mother about it. The days were passing by without response from parents. Disappointed, he never ________ his idea.

Mack kept considering how to achieve it soon. He found his mother ________ with her work. A sparkling idea struck his mind. He could paint one of his uniforms while his mother was busy. He was ________. What if his mother saw and scolded. Finally，he made up his mind to paint.

One day his mother was busy as usual. After ________ she went home and stared in great ________ when she discovered a painting on a pair of trousers. Mack felt nervous for his mother's sudden arrival.

“I can't ________ the uniform, but I can paint it on my trousers,” he said to his mother. “then I will have my soccer uniform to ________ my dream.”

He was afraid to face his mother. But this naughty boy has worked out his idea. His selection was praiseworthy. Now the soccer uniform is all ________.

“Mom，I hope you will ________ me for the work.”Pleased to heard the pleasant words，she appreciated him for his work，ignoring the mistake. She didn't ________ the uniform in the form of painting.

It is his ________ soccer uniform. He screamed out of joy and liveliness. The school uniform has been spoiled but perhaps he will be more sensible another time.

“Now，it will remain as your memorable work out of your thirst for football. ________ you have input your efforts. These ________ add to your willpower to achieve your goal.”she conveys.

“Thank you Mom，for the uniform and sorry for ________ the school uniform.”He ran playfully.

My mom is really a good cook （I bet all of us have this same claims） and she never really taught me how to cook.She enjoys experimenting various dishes and occasionally she will ask for my help to grind chili，onions or garlic.Basically all simple chores.I sometimes look at how she prepares the dishes and became more observant over the years.Every day she will buy meat or vegetables from a local market near us and just store it in the fridge to be cook later for dinner.She works for the government and she is not available to cook lunch.Every day after coming back from school I would always open the refrigerator and see what she bought and I can always tell what will be for dinner that night.If I see chicken，potatoes and shredded coconut，I would be very excited because I know she will make my favorite dish – Chicken Curry.

My parents do okay but we are by no means wealthy.I think we are comfortable in our daily basic needs but we definitely have no room for luxuries.But when it comes to our dinner，my mom will always make 3 dishes for dinner without failure.It’s almost like eating in a restaurant.I have to admit I was spoiled by my mom when it comes to my eating habits and have high expectations when eating somewhere else.      

One day my mom came back from work in the office and she was really in bad mood.She was complaining about how untidy we are and we （my siblings） never contributed in the household chores.To me that is not a fair statement as my elder brother and I took turns to wash the dishes.I was also given the privileged of ironing my mom and dad’s office attire each week.I was 14 at that time and being a boy，I have no intention of letting my friends know.Most of my friends have a maid to do all this but my parents simply couldn’t afford one.

8 . I was nine when my father first sent me flowers. I had been taking tap-dancing lessons for six months, and the school was holding its yearly ______. As a member of the beginners’ chorus line, I was ______ of my lowly status. So it was a ______ to have my name called out at the end of the show along with the lead ______ and to find my arms full of red roses. I can still feel myself standing on that ______, blushing and gazing out at the audience, seeing my father’s grin as he applauded ______.

As the years passed, other ______ ―birthdays, awards, graduations—were ______ with Dad’s flowers. Dad’s flowers ______ his pride, and my success. When I ______ from college, I was embarking on a new career and was engaged to be married.

As my fortunes grew, my father gradually became ______, but his gifts of flowers continued ______ he died of a heart attack a few months before his 70th birthday. I covered his coffin ______ the largest, reddest roses I could find.

Often in the dozen years since, I have felt a(n) ______ to go out and buy a big bunch to fill the living room, ______ I never did. I knew it would not be the same.

Then one birthday, the doorbell rang. I was feeling ______ because I was alone. My son, Matt, had run out earlier with a “see you later”, never mentioning my ______. So I was surprised to see his large frame at the door. “Forgot my key,” he said, shrugging. “Forgot your birthday too. Well, I hope you like ______, Mom.” He pulled a bunch of daisies from ______ his back. “Oh, Matt,” I ______, hugging him hard, “I love flowers!”

Everything about moving day was a puzzle. I didn't know anything about our new building on a new street. Our old life was broken into pieces and packed up in piled boxes. I wondered if it would ever fit back together again.

Mom introduced me to our new neighbours, the Chens. Mrs Chen worked with Mom at the job she'd just started. Mr Chen was a famous craftsman(匠人) from China.

Mom said it was a fresh start, but it felt broken to me. I just wanted things to go back to how they had been before.

After the first day at my new school, I walked home alone. Mom had told me she had to work. I was still hoping she'd meet me after the bell. I had to open the door myself with the new key. I felt a bit hungry and went straight into the kitchen, ripping tape from the packed boxes while I searched for a clean plate. My fingers slipped, and something went crashing to the ground.

“Benjamin” cried Mom from the doorway. I didn't hear her come in. “What just broke?” she asked, kneeling to pick up the pieces. In her hands, I recognized the shattered pieces. It was Grandma's bowl. “I can't believe you broke this,” she said.

“Well, I can't believe we have to live here now! I can't believe I have to switch schools, and I can't believe you didn't even meet me after my first day” I ran into my room, slamming the door behind me.

The broom swept across the kitchen floor. Then the click of Mom's bedroom door closed behind her. I sneaked out into the kitchen and found the fragments in the dustbin. There were so many pieces in here, but maybe I could put them back together. Turning the pieces, I tried to match them,but this bowl would never look the same again.

“I'm sorry I yelled,” said Mom, as she opened her door. “Please just throw out the pieces. We can't make a fresh start with broken things.”

As I wandered down the hall, Mr Chen was emptying his garbage.

“Are you sure you want to throw that out?” he asked.

I brought the repaired bowl into her room.