Drawing Lessons

by Patricia Sands

  Once again they wept themselves to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Ben appeared to respond well to some of the prescribed medications over the winter. In spite of that, his need to have Arianna close by at all times was increasing noticeably.

  This spring day was a turning point.

  Ben left to drive to the nearby mall to meet friends at the Irish pub at noon for a corned beef on rye and a beer or two. The guys had been meeting on the last Thursday of the month for years. The mall was a five-minute drive straight down the street from their apartment.

  Arianna knew how much it meant to Ben when he went somewhere on his own. She also knew that she’d worry until he returned. The doctor had said it was important for him to have this kind of independence as long as he could handle it—and so far he had.

  When he hadn’t returned home by three p.m., Arianna called his cell phone. The call went straight to voice mail. Ben had been finding his phone confusing recently. Arianna called him on it every day, even when they were in the apartment together, just to keep him connected to it. Lately, though, the ringing had upset him.

  She then called his good friend George Castellanos to see if he was still with Ben.

  “Gosh, Arianna, I watched Ben leave the parking lot around two o’clock. We all got into a serious game of darts and stayed longer than usual. He seemed to have a good time . . . you know, as much as he can these days. We all noticed he was a bit quieter, and the scoring was confusing him, so we just let that go. I mean, who cares, really? We’re just glad that he still comes each month. I guess you called his cell?”

  Arianna told him the call had gone unanswered. “That’s happening a lot now.”

  “I think we better call the police,” George replied, sounding concerned. “Is anyone with you?”

  When Arianna said she was alone, George and his wife, Marlene, came straight over. Arianna called 911, and two police officers were at the door within five minutes.

  They asked a number of questions about Ben of Arianna, George, and Marlene and took the addresses of Sophia and Tad. Arianna began to feel as if they were all under suspicion for some sort of crime. The police also e-mailed a photo of Ben, along with a description of him and his vehicle, into the police system.

  Next, the officers searched every nook and cranny of the apartment and their restaurant, where they also interviewed the staff.

  Finally, one officer left to search the area around the Irish pub. The other officer remained at the apartment with Arianna, George, and Marlene.

  As the hours passed, Arianna’s nerves frayed. Tad rushed over after work. They had agreed there was no need to let Faith in on what was happening until they knew more.

  George and Marlene also insisted on staying. Marlene retrieved a casserole from her freezer, and Tad went downstairs to the restaurant to get a Greek salad to go with it. They forced themselves to eat and talk and tried to be optimistic.

  The officer was receiving updates regularly and told them no accidents had been reported in the city or on any of the local highways. He suggested Arianna try to get some sleep, but he understood when she told him that would be impossible.

  Finally, the officer received a call at two a.m. Lifting a hand to calm Arianna’s frantic reaction, he said, “Mrs. Miller, your husband has been found. He is fine . . . he had driven east from Toronto to just outside Cornwall. One of our officers recognized his car from the province-wide alert. Your husband had pulled off onto a small side road. Ran out of gas and had probably been sitting there for some time.”

  “Jesus!” Tad blurted. “That’s about a four-hour drive away!”

  The policeman’s face blurred in and out of focus through Arianna’s tears, and his words became indecipherable to her. Tad quickly put his arms around his mother as she sobbed with a mix of relief and dismay.

  “The officer has taken your husband to Cornwall Community Hospital to be checked out. They will keep him there until someone can collect him. The officer reported that Mr. Miller was calm and did not show any sign of distress.”

  George and Tad insisted they would leave immediately. “I’m going too,” Arianna said. “I want to be with Ben.”

  The police officer advised otherwise. “You won’t be doing Mr. Miller any service by jumping in your car right away. The hospital will take good care of him. They will give him something to eat and a bed to sleep in. I imagine he’s exhausted. Now, please get some rest before you drive to Cornwall.”

  As much as Arianna wanted to leave immediately, Tad convinced her that a few hours of sleep would help them all.

  As usual, Tad’s quiet common sense had been wise. They all felt better when they awoke in the morning.

  Russell Spencer called. They had been keeping in touch with him the day before and had texted him at two a.m. He wanted to make certain his help was not needed.

  “I’m on hospital duty today but have left instructions you are to be put through to me,” he told Arianna. “A word of caution when you see Ben: be calm. Do not act as though anything is wrong. That will be important for both of you.”

  “Oh, thanks, Russ! I would have rushed right over to him. I’m sure of that! I will pass that on to Tad and George.”

  When Tad, George, and Arianna walked into the hospital in Cornwall that afternoon, Ben was sitting calmly in a lounge watching television. He showed no awareness that anything was amiss.

  Arianna’s emotions were in turmoil. She was relieved he was safe, sad that his judgment was so impaired, helpless that she could not fix this, and frightened about what might happen next. The unknown was terrifying. Her heart was breaking apart, piece by piece.

  Back at home in Toronto, a police officer called to make an appointment with Arianna the next day. While Ben watched television, the officer explained to Arianna that her husband would have to give up driving. She understood completely but was worried about how Ben would respond to that. As it happened, the first time they went out in the car, Arianna simply suggested she would drive. Ben did not protest, and he never mentioned driving anywhere again.

  Later that afternoon, Arianna and her friend Gloria sat shoulder to shoulder on Gloria’s sofa, their feet sharing a large leather ottoman. They had sat like this since they were teenagers sharing confidences, and somehow they had never stopped.

  “I’m tired of crying,” Arianna mumbled, smearing her mascara as she wiped tears away. “And I’m so glad you insisted I come over here. George and Marlene were happy to spend some time with Ben. They brought him Marlene’s famous chicken pot pie . . . you know, it’s about the only thing he will eat these days.”

  Gloria nodded wordlessly, crumpling another tissue in her hand. She had also been crying as Arianna related the details of the previous two days. Gloria and Arianna had been best friends since high school, when Gloria had originally been Ben’s girlfriend. They knew each other well.

  “And the worst part was—after all my worrying, picturing Ben dead somewhere—when we walked into the hospital to get him, he simply looked at us and said, ‘Hi’ . . . like nothing had happened. That’s when reality hit me smack in the face, and I had to stop pretending things were sort of okay. They just aren’t.”

  “I feel so helpless,” Gloria said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I don’t seem to do much more than cry with you these days.”

  “You have no idea how much you help me just by doing that,” Arianna assured her friend. “Who else could I do this with? I’m so lucky to have you.”

  By the following September, Ben’s condition had deteriorated to the point that he could not be left alone. He lost all perspective and often attempted to leave the apartment with no idea why. His personal hygiene had been abandoned, and he was struggling with incontinence.

  There were unexpected periods when a conversation seemed almost normal. Then, suddenly, a look of panic would come over Ben’s face. His jaw would tighten and his eyes widen. It felt to Arianna like a silent cry
for help just before it was replaced by a blank stare, and he would reach for her hand.

  Arianna felt trapped in a nightmare. The pain in her heart was oppressive as she watched her life partner slip away from her. Some days she worried about her own grip on reality.

  Their sprawling apartment above the restaurant was now fitted with railings and safety bars in the bathrooms and hallway. New locks were installed on the doors. Regular caregivers provided some relief from the physical and emotional demands on Arianna.

  Ben was not happy when these strangers were in his space. His calm demeanor changed as he suggested harshly that these uninvited guests get out of his home. Arianna wondered at times if it was even worth it.

  Dr. Spencer insisted, taking her aside after an appointment with Ben, “Arianna, as your physician, and even more so as your friend, I assure you that this assistance is necessary. It’s as much for you as for Ben. If he is upset when you leave him for a few hours, so be it. He will be fine when you get home and won’t remember, anyway.”

  When she explained how embarrassed she felt for Ben, and for herself, at his uncustomary rudeness, the doctor reminded her that these caregivers understood and were used to this behavior. “It goes with the territory, and I’m sure you’ve noticed how well they cope. They feel your pain.”

  Ben’s friends did their best to spend time with him, but he could no longer go out to the pub or a coffee shop. For the most part, he would simply stare at the television. Still, they persisted and tried to entertain him with their running sports commentaries. Ben’s responses were dull and muted, if any.

  Everyone was suffering as they watched Ben slip away from them.

  Arianna tried to spend as much time with Ben as she could, but often the restaurant required her presence. Once the business was sold, there were still frequent meetings of one kind or another. And other times she knew she was purposely avoiding being with her husband. Which caused her all kinds of guilt and sadness.

  Because when she was being honest with herself, as much as her love for Ben did not fade, she often dreaded the time alone with him. It was torture for her to see his loss of control over his words and emotions, as well as his body. Even simple conversations were becoming difficult.

  It was also a test to constantly have caregivers in the house, as much as they tried to melt into the background when not needed. Most were kind and helpful and respected Arianna’s privacy. Nevertheless, there was always an unavoidable extra presence.

  In mid-September, Ben’s elderly parents, both in frail health, flew in from their retirement community on Vancouver Island. They had never been particularly close in the fifteen years since they had moved west. The weeklong visit was awkward and emotional, and it was a relief they only came once. Arianna dutifully called every week after that and filled the conversation with news about Tad and Faith and the great-grandchildren.

  Faith Skyped nightly with her mother. Ben enjoyed talking to his daughter this way at first, but as his illness progressed, he became frustrated that she was in “that box.”

  In early October, Faith took a leave from her teaching position in Nunavut and returned home to Toronto.

  Arianna was deeply touched by her daughter’s sensitive and tender manner with Ben, even in his worst moments. Those moments were becoming more frequent. With Faith at home, they were able to dispense with the night nurse for a while as, most nights, Ben could be sedated to sleep through until morning. If he did wake up, there was help for Arianna.

  “Mom,” Faith said one evening, after they had settled Ben for the night, “I know it doesn’t make things better, but at least Dad doesn’t realize what’s happening. He is slipping into his own world. Somehow that’s comforting to me.”

  Arianna ran her fingers through her long hair before she twisted it into a tight knot, her tension showing as she gripped it behind her head.

  “I hear you, but it hurts my heart to the core to see it happening. My Ben—your dad—is vanishing in front of our eyes. Nothing about that is comforting to me.” Tears fell easily.

  Faith passed an ever-present box of tissues across the table to her.

  For the first time ever, Thanksgiving was quietly acknowledged with a simple family dinner to which Ben contributed nothing but sadness. Ben’s unawareness of the holiday made it that much more difficult. He became restless at the table, and Arianna helped him off to bed, as their grandchildren, Nicholas and Isabella, sat teary-eyed while they finished dinner. An atmosphere of gloom settled around the table, even though Faith attempted to cheer things up with dessert and offers of a movie.

  Tad was still trying to accept his father’s condition. His wife, Christine, leaned over and put her hand on his shoulder as the adults spoke over coffee. The children were happily settled with their movie choice. “There are times I look at Dad, when he’s sitting quietly or snoozing, and I feel he might still be there. We might be able to have a conversation. But after today, I can see that’s never going to happen. Dad, as we knew him, is gone.”

  Everyone nodded silently.

  Tad reached across the table and tenderly took his mother’s hand. “Mom, you’re being so strong and handling this in the best way possible. I know your heart is broken to see Dad this way.”

  Arianna gulped back tears. “My heart’s broken for all of us and especially Dad. He had so much more life to live. No one is ever prepared for something like this. I know we aren’t alone, and the support group at the hospital has been incredibly helpful.”

  Faith agreed and said to her brother, “I went to the group meeting last week with Mom. Maybe you and Christine should come with us the next time. It was so beneficial to talk with others going through the same crisis in their family. I came away with more strength to deal with it.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Christmas was a disaster.

  Arianna and Ben had always hosted, and every year, the house was filled with ever more joy as their children were born and grew up, and then grandchildren became part of the celebration. Traditions, large and small, began early in December, and the apartment was decorated with treasures collected through the decades.

  Year after year, Ben lovingly teased Arianna. “You are truly Mrs. Claus, if there ever was one.”

  “And proud of it,” she would reply, returning his warm smile. She felt grateful he had always been so supportive of her holiday indulgences.

  Tad and Christine’s children, Nicholas and Isabella, were the apples of their grandparents’ eyes. Now ages eight and ten, they clearly noticed Ben’s odd behavior. Their pappouli’s inability to remember their names confused them, even though they understood he was not well.

  Faith convinced Arianna they should go ahead with their Christmas traditions. Arianna had let Faith gently persuade her to unpack the boxes of house decorations. They had gone to the nursery to purchase cedar and pine boughs for the fireplace mantel and doorways. The scent of the fresh cuttings filled the apartment with the Christmas spirit.

  Arianna loved watching the grandchildren help Faith set up the collection of Santas, exclaiming and giggling as they examined each one. Tenderly, they unwrapped the buildings and figures of the beloved Christmas village that had grown with each year and placed them on the mantel.

  As decorations were brought out, the happy memories that accompanied them made Arianna feel distraught. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Sometimes when I look around at all these reminders of our happy Christmases, I feel overwhelming sadness. I can’t imagine ever loving this time of year again.”

  Yet each time Arianna began to object, Faith would put her arms around her mother and try to be encouraging. “As much as I hate to say this, it might be Dad’s last Christmas. Let’s do all the things that he loved.”

  “I’m not sure it will mean anything to him. But, okay. I feel guilty for having these moments of self-pity, but I can’t stop them.”

  “Oh, Mom.” Faith’s voice cracked with emotion. “I’m so sorry this has
happened to Dad, you . . . all of us . . .”

  They put off buying the tree until Christmas Eve. It had taken Faith that long to break down Arianna’s completely out-of-character resolve not to have one. “We must! For the little ones, if for no one else.”

  Faith prepared a platter of raw vegetables with a bowl of tzatziki sauce and opened a bottle of chardonnay. Arianna poured Ben a glass of iced tea, his favorite, but Ben refused every effort they made to cajole him into eating or drinking anything.

  A soundtrack of their favorite carols played softly in the background.

  They began trimming the tree with ornaments collected through the couple’s thirty-seven-year marriage. From time to time, they gently encouraged Ben to take a treasure out of the box and hand it to one of them to place on the tree. They would remind him of the memory attached to it, and occasionally he would nod or smile weakly. His interest flagged quickly.

  “This feels like an exercise in futility,” Arianna mumbled under her breath to her daughter. She suggested they stop more than once, but Faith was determined.

  “Maybe one of these ornaments will jog a memory for him . . . I keep hoping. He loved going through them every year. I remember when we were kids we used to get bored because he insisted on telling us about every single one. Each one had a story, or he would make one up.” Her eyes filled with tears.

  “Now,” she continued, sniffing loudly, “I would give anything for him to say something meaningful.”

  Arianna said nothing at first. In time, it was more than she could take. She placed the ornament she was holding back in the tissue-lined box.

  “Sweetheart, I’m done for now.” Her wine sat untouched.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t stop to think how this would affect you.”

  Arianna took her daughter in her arms. They rocked back and forth in silence. “It’s okay. I understand. Let’s turn out the lights and go for a walk while the nurse takes over. We can finish decorating when we come back.”