This mature/romance, holiday-themed story features minimal sexual activity and takes a sober look at an issue of our modern times. If this doesn't interest you, please check out some of the many other excellent stories on this site.
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It was a bright, warm summer day when Bill took Estelle for the last time to the Our Home memory care unit. Estelle's dementia had been rapidly deteriorating in the prior ten or so months. Twice during this time, Bill had her spend a few days in the unit for 'respite care', meaning he got a break while she was being cared for by the professionals. On this day, however, the plan was for her to permanently reside in the facility.
Estelle's dementia had started some six or seven years previously. Initially she had trouble remembering a few words and later she started to make mistakes with her cooking, something which both baffled and frustrated her. Once she got lost driving home from her sister's place in the next county, Bill gently took the keys away over Estelle's loud and bitter complaints. They had been to several medical specialists and she was tried on the few medications available, all with no success.
Bill had learned a lot of tricks when dealing with his wife's problem. He found out early it was simply easier to agree with her, no matter what she said, than try to convince her otherwise. He didn't care what she thought as long as he knew the truth to the actual situation. After all, she wouldn't remember the next day what the discussion had been about anyway. He learned to try and distract her if she became obsessed with a bothersome idea or thought. He kept several albums full of photos of their earlier years, vacations and their kids. If she became agitated, he would show her the albums and she would spend hours quietly leafing through them.
Eventually, his coping strategies no longer worked and he became increasingly worn out, both mentally and physically, as her disease progressed. Their two kids came to visit and both gently pushed him to accept the inevitable and have her be moved to a memory care unit. He agreed but kept delaying it for as long as he could. One night he woke up with her standing over him, holding a kitchen knife and yelling to get out of her bed because her father, who had actually been dead for many years, would be coming home soon. He rolled over quickly and left the room. An hour later he found her in the bed, sound asleep. He slipped the knife from her fingers and decided the time had come.
With a heavy heart, he contacted the facility and arrangements were made to move her in. He took some of her photos, clothes and personal knick-knacks to the home a few days before moving her in so they could have a room set up for her. They had arranged for her to arrive during the morning activity session and suggested he not come back for three or four days to allow her to get used to their routine.
Estelle seemed to adjust very quickly to the memory care unit. Some of the aids started to call her "Miss Essie" which she seemed to enjoy. Bill would drop by two or three times a week to visit and there were times when she appeared to enjoy seeing him and at other times, he felt ignored. The RN reassured him his wife was doing well.
Bill found it odd to walk through the unit. At times he wasn't sure who was a visitor and who was a resident. Younger people were usually family members or employees, but older people could have been either residents or spouses. After a few weeks, he felt he could recognize most of the residents but more than once he would address someone, believing them to be a visitor, only to get nonsensical gibberish in return.
He found also that different residents had various levels of dementia and different abilities. Some were quite vocal and others seemed to sit quietly all day long. These differences were most apparent during the activity sessions which occurred mid-morning and again right before dinner.
By late October he found that two visits per week seemed to be best for both him and Estelle. If he went more often, she could get agitated and it was fatiguing for him as well. When he received the invitation for a pre-Halloween dinner at the unit, he adjusted his visitation day to be available for that Wednesday.
For the dinner he dressed nicer than in his usual jeans and plaid shirt. He had a new pair of slacks and a dress shirt with a cardigan sweater. He brought a box of his wife's favorite chocolates to give to her to celebrate the holiday. Once at the facility, he gave her the chocolates in her room and walked with her to the dining room. He sat them in the two empty chairs nearest the door and started to help her with the food, cutting the meat for her and helping her with the drinks.
As he was helping her and eating some food himself, he became aware of a woman sitting beside him. He had not seen her before and he noted she seemed to be attending to the older man with her. At one point they glanced at each other and he nodded, smiled and said "Hi" to her. She smiled back and turned to attend to the man with her.
Later he got up to get a cup of coffee right as the woman next to him tried to stand up. They bumped elbows and laughed together before he joked, "Can I buy you a cup of coffee?"
"Sure, I'll stay here with Dave."
He poured two cups of coffee from the urn, grabbed some creamer and sweetener and turned to head back to his seat. As he walked there, he observed the woman. She was very chic with a mid-calf, dark blue dress. There was a loose scarf around her neck and a nice decorative pin was attached over her left chest.
When he got back, he gave her the coffee and acted as if to toast her with his cup. "Happy Halloween," he said.
"Oh, thank you. Not much to be happy about though, is there?"
"Not really, at least not with my wife stuck here. Is this your husband?"
"Yes. Dave's his name." She turned to her husband and said, "Honey, say 'Hi" to, uh..."
"Bill."
"Honey, say 'Hi' to Bill."
Dave looked at Bill for a few seconds before saying slowly in a soft whisper, "Hi."
Bill greeted him before asking her name, which was Mary. He turned to Estelle and introduced her to Mary.
Estelle was more vocal than Dave had been. She launched into a quick, nonsensical talk about the dinner before she seemed to get more confused. She turned back to her plate and resumed eating her apple pie.
"How long has your husband been here?" asked Bill.
"Since May. Your wife?"
"Mid-August. I've not seen you before."
"No, my usual days are Wednesday and Saturday. Any more and I get too depressed and I'm not sure it means that much to Dave anyway."
"That explains it. I'm usually here Monday and Thursday. Today was special because of the dinner."
For the next fifteen minutes or so they chatted briefly about their situations and their spouses. Bill learned Mary was a retired RN and had three adult children, but none in the community. He told of his life as a junior college instructor and about his two kids now also living far away.
After the dessert was finished, Bill walked Estelle back to her room and laid her down for a nap. As he was getting ready to leave through the security door, Mary came up to him.
"Well, I'm glad to have met you," he said. "Nice to visit with someone who understands what I'm going through."
"Yes, it is. You know, I have a whole bunch of lady friends, but they seem to have drifted off as Dave's condition deteriorated. Just when I needed a normal adult conversation the most, I found myself increasingly alone."
"Yeah, I've had the same experience. Here at the end Estelle was so paranoid and required so much care that even if someone came by, it was a disaster. Aside of talking to store clerks and the staff here, this is the most I've spoken to anyone in months."
"Yeah, me too."
"Uh, I think I'd like to switch my visit days to match yours. That way we could chat a bit more..."
