Picture this scenario: Husband Ted and wife Mary, married nearly 50 years, three grown children, four grandchildren and a deep family history involving births, job losses, vacations, friendships, illness, long talks into the night, arguments, make-up sex, worrying about finances and on it goes. The more recent history involves Mary’s decent into Alzheimer’s disease. After trying to manage Mary’s illness at home for many years, Ted had to come to terms with placing her in a long term care facility for her own safety and for his health. Mary has been in the facility for three years and no longer recognizes Ted or their children.
It took Ted a bit more than one year to come to terms with Mary being in the facility. Much like grief, he had to go through one of every major life event without her – birthday, Christmas, anniversary, Easter dinner with the family. He hasn’t yet been on a vacation and even though the odd widow makes veiled suggestions about dates, Ted can’t bring himself to see himself as alone. Ted goes to the facility without fail every day to sit with Mary. He used to go two or even three times each day. In the beginning Mary would want to come with Ted when he left and couldn’t understand why she was being left behind. Ted would sit in the parking lot in his car and cry each time he left. Following a little health scare, Ted’s doctor gently ‘prescribed’ one visit to Mary each day in an effort to reduce Ted’s stress level and encourage him to lead a more normal life instead of his days consisting of visits to Mary interrupted by spurts of life.
Ted’s days now involve early morning coffee with the newspaper, a bit of gardening, church if it’s Sunday followed by dinner with his daughter and her family, naps, visits to the library and, of course, his daily visit with Mary before supper. The past few months Ted has felt a bit of an ache. A loneliness, really. Back at his lodge meetings for two years now, Ted has started absorbing the conversations around him. His buddies talk about vacations, parties and even women they see here and there who miraculously flirt with them, or so they think.
The last party Ted remembers going to was a neighbourhood get together just before Christmas five years ago. He enjoyed himself at first but Mary was on edge, not recognizing several people she’d known for decades and she became upset at not being able to remember the ingredients for a recipe of hers that some of the women admired. It was their last social outing together. Apart from family events and their youngest son’s wedding, which Mary wasn’t well enough to attend, Ted had been pretty isolated. A part of him longed to be social again but without Mary by his side, he didn’t know how to approach it.
Many thoughts ran through Ted’s mind. He wasn’t single. His wife was still very much alive even though not much remained of the woman who had been his life’s partner. In fact, nothing was left if he was being honest. Yet he had vowed ‘til death do us part on the day he and Mary were married and nobody’s heart had stopped beating.
He wasn’t separated. Not in the sense that most people use the word. After all, it wouldn’t have been his choice that their lives take this turn. He had tried to look after his wife in the home they had shared for many years.
And yet, he didn’t really feel married any longer. Oh, he knew he was still married in the legal sense but he no longer had his companion, his lover, his sounding board. The one person who knew what buttons to push, how to soothe him, what makes him laugh and how to become one as they danced. The looks, the words, the little expressions that harkened back to some story only the two of them knew and could send them down memory lane in a heartbeat. Ted was missing all of that. The essence of what his marriage had been.
The guilt Ted felt at even considering weighing the odds of putting himself back out there was almost too much some days, yet in the quiet of another lonely evening spent at home alone a growing part of Ted’s heart was yearning for human companionship. Mary would never know. Or would she? Could he really suffer the thought of being alone for perhaps the next five, ten or more years? Ted knew he wouldn’t remarry as long as Mary was alive. He didn’t want sex – at least not like he did when he was in his 20’s, but the very idea of having a hand to hold and a warm body next to him as he fell asleep each night was intoxicating. Beyond that, having someone to walk with, shop with, exchange the day’s trivia with while preparing a meal to share not to mention the possibility of the odd vacation was increasingly becoming a guilt-ridden fantasy.
But what would his children think? What kind of example would he set for his grandchildren? And again, what if Mary somehow knew? These thoughts were enough to blast the very idea from his mind but never for very long. Ted weighed the pros and cons for months before finally summoning up the courage to meet with the minister at his church. Ted was directed to score a moral victory by remembering his vows, respecting the memories of their years together and find other ways of enjoying his remaining years.
Ted’s family doctor was more encouraging. Having seen this scenario play out in his practice more times than he wanted to count over the years, the doctor encouraged Ted to actively seek out friendships with women and men alike. Staying engaged was, after all, a vital component of good health along with eating well, exercising daily and waking up each morning with a purpose.
“But what if Mary somehow knows what I’m doing?” asked Ted of his doctor, “Won’t she feel betrayed?” The doctor put his hand on Ted’s shoulder and quietly said, “The Mary you knew, who was your wife, is gone and she isn’t coming back.” Together they went through a series of questions. No, Mary didn’t know him even though he spent at least two, sometimes three, hours with her each day and hasn’t ever missed a day. No, Mary doesn’t recognize their children. Yes, Mary did throw him out of her room one day in a rage thinking he was an intruder. No, the doctor assured him, there’s no coming back from this horrible disease. What was is gone.
Their conversation went on a little longer. Ted’s health was decent for a man of his age and he could expect many good years ahead. Depression is a major issue for aging seniors who are widowed or ghost widowed as the doctor called situations like Ted’s where the essence of his wife is now gone. The doctor saw no value in Ted isolating himself but understood that a good marriage is hard to leave behind, especially when there are so many things to remind you of what you’ve lost. A home they bought together, eating off of dishes she picked out, the afghan she crocheted that keeps his feet warm while he watches TV each night, her perfume bottles still on the dresser and her body going through the motions at the place where she now feels at home.
The doctor suggested that maybe Ted could find ways to honour Mary in his every day life – continue his daily visits, holding her hand and talking to Mary as he always had about their family, kissing her cheek each time he leaves. He further suggested that Ted might take the bull by the horns and organize group coffee get-togethers including not only familiar couples but others who had been widowed or ghost widowed. At the very least, he would expand his social circle and find energy and satisfaction in conversation rather than staring at the four walls. Along the way, he might meet a nice lady who would respect Ted’s need to honour his marriage and quite possibly be looking for the same companionship that Ted so craved. It might take time but maybe Ted needs that time to adjust to opening his world to new friends and a social life without Mary.
Ted’s children were another story but maybe not a bad story. They love their mother but they see what Ted sees. She’s gone. Each of their children will react differently to the possibility of Ted finding love again and they will talk amongst themselves, analyze, criticize, accept, not accept, judge or embrace the idea. However they react, they are grown men and women with children of their own who have no desire to be their father’s constant companion. They also don’t want him lonely, depressed or isolated so in time – a little or a lot – each will come around to accept that Ted needs a more fulfilling life.
Sooner than later, Mary will pass and they will all mourn together and come to understand that they have been mourning her for years. Ted will eventually feel ok about packing up Mary’s clothes and her perfume bottles and making room in his life and perhaps his home for the next journey. He will hopefully find comfort in how he was able to honour his Mary and understand that one good marriage makes a person long for another.
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