Days Gone By
“I like to look out the window. To see the trees blowing in the wind. To hear the birds chirping and the faint voices of the people who walk by. Life is a funny thing; don’t you think Ms. Nina?”
“That it is Ms. Guilde. That it is. Are you ready to have some lunch now?”
“No I think I want to sit here a little bit more. What are we having today anyway?”
“Your favorite of course, tuna and crab salad.”
“Yes, I do like that. I haven’t had it in such a long time it will certainly be a treat. I used to know someone who made it so well. She would cut up the veggies so tiny and for the life of me I still haven’t figured out what else she added to the mix. All I know was that it tasted great. I used to request it all the time. I don’t know if you can make it as good as her but we shall see, right Ms. Nina?” said a playful Ms. Guilde as she smiled at me.
“Yes we shall.” I smiled back at her.
I sat a moment looking out that window with her and took in all that she was seeing. The sun was shining exceptionally bright. It warmed my skin as if I were outside receiving a direct hit from it. Although summer was a memory that should have been gone and forgotten we were still experiencing the mild temperatures from it. Some of the leaves on the trees were still struggling to change color even as we approached the beginning of winter. Global warming was alive and real and New York seemed to be experiencing it first-hand. The weather wasn’t what it used to be, not really predictable.
Nothing was like it used to be I thought.
Things used to be so easy and carefree but life has a way of sneaking up on you and taking you out of the routine that you have become accustomed. It is difficult to predict when it happens. One day you are lying down with your lover and enjoying the sounds of her heart pumping life throughout her body, almost making sure that it is working properly. Like you have a hand in deciding whether she lives or dies. Like your love can somehow give her the immortality that you wish for her. The next moment you are searching her eyes trying to find the words, trying to picture the memories, trying not to forget that you are but a stranger to her now.
“I think I’m ready for my salad.” said Ms. Guilde turning to me. She looked at me with concern as she took in my features. “You okay?”
“Yes ma’am. Just having a memory.”
“I hope it was a good one but by the looks of the lines forming in your forehead I am not so sure.”
“No need for worry, I will be okay. Did you want to have some crackers with the salad or would you prefer it on toast.”
“Toast is good.”
“Okay, I will be back soon.”
“Okay.”
I walked so fast that I think it turned into a soft jog. When I got to the refrigerator I pulled out the pale blue container that held the salad. I took off the lid that I had opened many times before and placed it on the cream kitchen counter, grabbed the loaf of bread that was always kept on top of the refrigerator finally I placed two slices in the stainless steel toaster that had seen better days. I sat at the small black card table/ dining table in the equally small but manageable kitchen. The chairs were not made for comfort but instead just made for sitting and getting up as quickly as possible. There should be no long conversations when sitting in chairs like these that made your butt hurt and reminded you of Sundays during childhood spent at the church.
I sat there and waited for the toast to pop up and a breeze from the window casually strolled in and with it sent the smell of the onions from the salad into my nostrils and the sadness that I had been fighting washed over me. Onion, damn this smell of onions! Damn all the onions in the world and all the fields that were filled with them. I held down my urgent emotions so that I did not chuck the whole damn salad in the garbage. She loved onions. I was happy that she could at least remember that. Ms. Guilde, the love of my life, one of the reasons I lived and fought for breath.
The one that I endured the pain of when I looked into her eyes every day with a glimmer of hope that she would recognize me. Smell the salad and look at me and call my name. That she would say “Thanks, babe. I love the way you make tuna and crab salad Brandy.” That she would say my name, that she would remember that she loves me. The vows that she and I had taken, forsaking all others, through sickness and health, to death shall we part. That she would remember that I was not her live in nurse, that she referred to as Ms. Nina (Nina being my middle name) as the doctors had suggested I let her call me to make the transition be easy for her. That she would remember that I was her wife. Her wife who loved her. Her wife who would cut out half of her own brain and replace all the parts that were damaged in hers, the parts that took the memories of me, of us and the love and life that we shared away from her.
It had started with a series of headaches. Then the loss of memories about the slightest things began. She would forget blocks of time, whole conversations, where she was. I would have to repeat everything just to get her to remember a conversation. She refused to do anything about it. She thought it was just a sign that she was getting older but I knew that something was wrong. My stomach told me so; the energy from those who no longer lived told me so. She hushed my worries with soft kisses and hugs laced with words of calm arrogance that nothing would happen to her. That she would be here and for me not to worry.
Two years passed and I watched as she got worse. I cried myself to sleep silently on many nights. I cried to our daughter and she is who convinced her that something had to be done. Many tests later it could no longer be denied. The MRI showed signs or early Alzheimer’s disease. Being that there was no cure there was nothing that anyone could do at this point. She was told to continue doing the daily Boggle games that she was so fond of along with a series of other things that stimulated her mind. She went to therapy and we tried so many experimental treatments that she could not take it anymore. Then one day, for the first time in our forty years together, I saw the look of defeat in her eyes. She was giving up.
“It’s getting worse,” she’d said, “and there isn’t anything the doctors can do.”
I remember the feel of the big tear drops that fell from my face feeling like acid on my soft brown skin. I took her face in my hands and pulled her down to meet me. She was only inches taller than me but her presence always engulfed my small frame. “Don’t you dare stand there and give up on me?! Do you hear me Theresa! Don’t give UP! There are still more test that can be done and the doctor said that she is looking to get you to be a part of that new trial drug that they have developed that shows promise and….”
“I love you Brandy. When the day comes and my memory of us has gone from the surface I want you to always remember that.”
“Don’t …Theresa.” I was a mumbling mess of hurt and anger. Our perfect love story was to be disturbed by the big eraser of circumstance and horrible fate that were set to flow across her mind and take away all that was her life.
“I love you, I love our chil
. I love you. I have been proud to be your wife, your friend and I thank you for complimenting my soul.
“Don’t say goodbye to me.” I pleaded.
“I have to take the time out and say it. I want to say it every day that I can remember and feel these feelings. The feeling of emotion that overwhelms me when I think about our life together. The way you smell, the feel of us coming together when we make love. I want to embrace the memories before I lose them.”
I could see that tears had begun to fall from her eyes. I leaned into her and we embraced. We hugged so tightly that breath was something that was not needed to live at that moment. Our hearts merged and pumped life into our bodies making us one unit of strong love. Our bones cracked under the pressure as we refused to release. We tumbled to the floor. Our tears mingled together and caused flowing rivers down our arms. I looked up at her and her lips immediately took mine. The kiss was one of hope lost, of loved lived, of memories that were still fresh and the mourning of the future memories that would never be fulfilled.
We eventually curled up that day in the middle of the cherry wood polished floor that we both adored and refused to carpet in our living room and made love right there. A slow, soul stirring love. We moaned through pleasure filled words as our tears seemed to cloud up the vision of our faces.
As she stroked me with all the power that was inside of her I thought about all the small arguments that we had. The times when we didn’t speak because I was too mad to talk to her. The time we wasted not realizing our love. The time that we could never get back. The long mornings in bed that we shared that didn’t include making love of the physical kind but instead our minds got together and caused explosions of a cerebral orgasmic state. Why is this happening? Why her? Why now? Why us? Why did Heaven need to claim her by taking her away from me slowly? Taking away her strong will?
The next day was the first time that she had an ‘episode’. She didn’t know who I was or where she was at. She screamed and looked at me as if I was an intruder in her bed, in her life. I had to call her doctor after we headed to the hospital in an ambulance. I could not control what she was feeling. I had to call 911 to explain the situation. Her brain had finally put the bars down and she was now entrapped.
I had been learning what to do for months before this happened. I had to be prepared. She had told the doctors and me that she was never to go to any form of resting home she wanted to stay right here with her family in her own house. She didn’t care what happened. So I took classes on how to become a caretaker of someone with Alzheimer’s. It took all of that to be where we are today. She doesn’t “come back” to me at all now. She used to come back for brief times and just say “Hey Brandy.” Or ask about our daughter but not anymore. She is gone and I have had to reintroduce myself. Learn to have conversations like it’s the first time and endure the lost look that she sometimes has. Fight the tears and urges to touch her and embrace her.
“Everything okay in there?” ‘
“Yes Ms. Guilde. I’m coming out shortly.”
I hurriedly threw water on my face from the sink and made the sandwich after I re-toasted the bread a little too warm it up. I took her favorite mug with the animated puppies out of the cabinet and filled it to the rim with hot tea. She always liked the tea to be filled to the top of the mug so that the threat of hot liquid scolding your hand a little was possible. Walking back into the living room I placed a smile on my face. She turned to look at me. Those eyes, so wide and expressive when she had become deep with thought. I took her, she has aged but despite it all still looks younger than her sixty five years. Still vibrant at times but confused like a lost child who knows that home is near but they can’t remember what corner to turn to get there.
“You sure you are okay.”
“Yes ma’am. I’m sure.”
“You are a pretty woman. You should be spending your time with someone. You know…in a romantic sense.”
I smile, “Thank you. I like my time here.”
“I appreciate that but I worry about you at times. You seem so sad.”
“No worries.” I replied
Her eyes held mine and I felt a shot of electricity jolt through me and into my soul. Like a light bulb was turned on by the sudden surge she replied. “Yes…No worries.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to say how much I loved her and that I knew that my wife was in there. The woman I loved and would never give up on. She somehow seemed to recognize the words that she used to say constantly throughout our relationship, “No worries.”
I looked away suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the thought. I pushed the folding tray in front of her so she could eat. She grabbed my wrist and I looked at her reluctantly. I sighed at what I saw. Tears were pooling in my eyes. Her lips formed and she refused to release my wrist. “Is everything okay Ms. Guilde?”
“Yes, Brandy, my love…No worries.”
Forever Tangled:Trapped in the sheets of emotion is available @ Amazon.com, barnesandnobles.com on paperback and for the Nook and kindle. You can also purchase it@createspace.com
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