I like the story The Ties that Bind by Blue88 but felt uneasy at the end that an intelligent educated man could not seem to grasp the implication of mental illness - or maybe it just wasn't happy enough (lol). You should read the original story first as this won't make much sense without it. No sex in this final chapter. Thanks to Blue88 for encouragement to submit this final chapter.
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Sometimes you find that even when you know something is true you still can't accept it - a bit like those pictures you see that trick your eyes into seeing something that your logic tells you isn't really there. I knew that Shelly was suffering from a mental illness, but emotionally I couldn't get over what she had done. I suppose that because you can't see a physical diagnosis of mental illness it is harder to accept it as a real medical condition. As a result, although I knew she needed my help I was still holding something back.
I returned to Dr. Biscoe a few days later and he told me that whilst he still had not reached a final diagnosis he was definite that Shelley had had what he called a 'major psychotic episode' during which her personality would have been so radically different that she could effectively be considered a different person. He was still uncertain about the root cause but he was inclined to think it could be some sort of severe depression or perhaps bipolar disorder. I didn't really understand all that he told me (so much for his promise not to use psychobabble) but I did discover that continuing medication should help her live a more 'normal' life. As if anyone could define a 'normal' life! He did say that there was a great deal of evidence to show that family support helped, especially in ensuring that sufferers kept taking their medication. Apparently they often feel so good as a result of the drugs that they don't believe they need to take any more.
I visited Lyle to tell him of my decision to support Shelley through her treatment but how I couldn't get past my emotional hatred of what she had done.
"I understand David. It's not everything I hoped for but I'm pleased you're supporting Shelly. You know that if you want Millie or I to do anything you only have to ask."
"Thanks Lyle."
"I was talking to Gramps the other day and he asked if you'd stop by and visit with him?"
Gramps. When I went to live with Lyle and Millie, her grandfather, Gramps, became my honorary great-grandfather. At that time he lived with his wife, known to all as Grammy, but I never seemed to see much of her, or indeed Gramps until after her death. Now over ninety and widowed, he lived in an old folks home outside the city.
"I suppose he wants to give me some advice as well?"
"Quite possibly. Cut the old guy some slack though. Go and listen at least."
"O.K."
So, two days later, I was in Gramps' room at the home. He was in his favorite armchair looking at the picture in a silver frame that sat on the table beside him. It showed him probably thirty years earlier, sitting in the swing seat on the porch of his old house next to Grammy. They were looking at each other with such love and affection it almost radiated out of the picture.
"Davey boy. Good to see you."
"Hello Gramps. You know I love that photo. I always think the picture shows true love. You both look so happy."
"Ah my Laura. I've missed her every day since the Good Lord called her. Still she's awaitin' on me and my time draws closer. I look forward to the time we'll be together for eternity. I tell you boy no man had a better wife, no two people loved each other more than us. Sit yourself down and let me tell you about my Laura."
*****
Laura Travers was the prettiest girl in our small mid-west town. We sat together in school, friends from the day we met. Heaven help any boy who pulled her pigtails or said anything to upset her; I got in some awful fights, much to her annoyance. As soon as we could escape our families in church we sat together there as well. From the age of sixteen every young man in the neighborhood had asked her to step out or to attend a dance or church picnic but she only ever went with me, Arty Jenner.
She stood six inches shorter than me, slim and elegant with a smile that could make my heart do back flips, brown eyes in which I was lost whenever I looked into them and long, wavy, chestnut brown hair. Her soft lilting voice was like gentle music and never did I hear it raised in anger, she just never got angry.
On her twenty-first birthday, with her parents' approval, I proposed. She accepted and we were married six months later. I had a good job and we managed to rent a small house. Within five years we had three kids and as much happiness as we could bear. Eventually we bought that house, it had so many good memories that we couldn't bring ourselves to leave it.
Things began to change twenty five years ago. Laura began to get forgetful. We laughed together when she'd forget some silly thing; it just seemed we were getting old. Trouble was she kept getting worse and then my world fell apart when the doc said my beautiful wife had Alzheimer's.
We got given all sorts of medication to try and slow down the inevitable, but the doc had told us that nothing could stop it. My wonderful Laura told me to put her in a clinic so I wouldn't have to face the hardship that was coming, but I would rather have chopped off my hand; so we went on and life got tougher but I still had my Laura. After nearly sixty years of being together, since we first met in school, I couldn't imagine being apart.
The doctors had told me what to expect but I tell you nothing could really prepare me for the first morning that she woke up in our bed and didn't know who I was. That hurt a lot but I knew my Laura was still inside her body somewhere. From then on we had good days and bad days. On the good days my Laura was there and we were still as much in love as the day we married. On the bad days she didn't know me, and sometimes it would scare her. Eventually I had to sleep in another room to stop her being frightened when she woke up on the bad days.
The good days got fewer and then the 'monster' appeared. The docs tried to explain it with their fancy words but what it amounted to was a whole other person inside my Laura's brain. Trouble was this other person was real mean. A lot of things got thrown at me so I had to start hiding stuff away. Then one morning I woke up to find Laura with a kitchen knife which she buried in my shoulder. We had a real fight over that knife until I finally managed to get help. The police and my kids wanted to put my Laura away in an institution but I couldn't do it. How would she feel if she had one of her good days in a place like that? Anyways I'd made promises to her when we got married. I'd said I'd love her, honor her and look after her in sickness and in health until we was parted by death. I knew that the 'monster' was just her illness coming out; my Laura could never do something like that. I decided that if the Good Lord had chosen to test me, I wasn't going to be found wanting. I just made sure I hid all the dangerous stuff, and had a lock on the door when I was asleep. 'Fraid towards the end I had to hire some nurses to help until God decided it was her time. Like I said, I hope it won't be long now 'til I can join her in heaven - if'n I'm good enough.
*****
I was humbled by Gramps' story. The depth and strength of his love for his wife, the honor with which he upheld his marriage vows and the pride he took in being the best husband he could possibly be, I felt inadequate by comparison.
"All this happened and I knew nothing?"
"You had problems enough as a youngster, what with losin' your parents and all. Wouldn't have been fair to give you more."
