“This sadness, where in your body do you feel it?” he asked.
“Where in my body?” repeated Hanna, perplexed.
“Yes. I am not sure if Karim has mentioned this to you, but I work a lot with visualisations. I don’t do this on the NHS but with some private clients. It can be quite effective to clear negative energy and emotional blockages. It can achieve quick results and since you are not here for very long I think we should try. Close your eyes concentrate on the feeling and tell me, where in your body do you find the sadness?”
“Oh, that is difficult. Everywhere,” Hanna replied.
“Focus Hanna. If you think it is everywhere concentrate on any one location and see if the source of it seems to come from there,” David advised her.
Hanna sat quietly for some time listening to her body and trying to become engaged with her feelings.
“It is in my stomach area,” Hanna said. “No, wait. The source is in my neck. My shoulders want to sink down. It is funny but the two are becoming one and the same now. They are moving and coming together in my chest. That is where the sadness is.”
“Good. Now stay with it for as long as if you can bear it. What does it feel like? Does it have a particular shape? Does it have a colour?”
Once again she sat quietly trying to get answers to these questions.
“It feels a bit like a millstone. I thought it was black at first but it is a dark grey now,” she finally replied.
“Good, very good. Now I want you to thank the millstone and then release it from its duties. The feelings it represents have served you well and were an important part of the process. Acknowledge the positive role it has played in your life and eliminate all anger or bad feelings you have towards it. It is important that you part as friends,” David said, sounding very confident and knowledgeable.
“Okay,” Hanna said after a short while. “I have done that.”
“Empty your mind. You are now waiting for a helper to come and take the stone from your chest and remove it from your life altogether. Take your time to imagine what that person would look like. When you can see him or her, welcome them, and then let them help you.”
Hanna took a long time sitting with her eyes closed.
“They are here. A monk with a brown robe and a woman engulfed in shining white light,” then she fell silent again. David said nothing now and just watched her as she was slightly moving to the left and to the right of her chair, then she let out a huge sigh and then opened her eyes.
“Wow! That was intense,” Hanna said, shaking her body.
“Did they remove the stone?” David asked.
“Yes, they did. It was very heavy. The two of them took a while to unhinge it, but then it all went really quickly.”
“Where is the stone now?”
“They took it with them; into the light. I almost laughed at the images: it seemed such a cliché,” she admitted. “I have done visualisations like this before but the more worldly and rational part of me still finds it difficult to accept.”
“But it helped?” David said hopefully.
“Yes. I feel much lighter,” Hanna was pleased to tell him.
“Then that’s really good isn’t it.”
Chapter 20: Swans
After Biddy had woken from her afternoon nap, Walter took her on the famous walk behind the development. The old couple were fortunate enough to see the same dog chasing swans on the lake. The weather had been fantastic and Biddy returned from the walk on another high; just like the day before. Her zest for life, her happiness and positive attitude were intoxicating for Walter, and showed him that she was still his Biddy.
He wondered how long it had been since he had a proper conversation with his wife. The decline had been so sly that it was hard to pin-point a particular moment when their exchanges had turned into something less. Discussions had gradually stopped being abstract or highbrow and had homed in on practical issues, and the petty little things in the here and now. He missed the partner he had lost to the disease, but was able to console himself that the loveable woman he married was still around.
That was the woman he feared losing when Biddy went through the irritable and angry phase. While it was incredibly hard to accept that he could have only parts of her, and not the whole person anymore, he was content with the Biddy he had now; more a child than a wife at times, but full of the gentleness and sweetness he so treasured.
Preparing dinner had been a bit of an ordeal for Walter. To begin with, he had to go and get some shopping from a local express supermarket, whose stock was far too limited for his liking and demands. He had to take Biddy with him and that had not helped him focus.
Back in the kitchen it took him some time to find anything, he spent ages looking for knives, pans and chopping boards, as well as the basic ingredients he had not thought of buying. It proved very hard work, especially since Biddy had a surge of energy and wanted to help, which involved putting things away again and making a mess of Walter’s organised processes. With determination he created soup, salad and a vegetable pasta dish, admittedly a little over cooked but edible and delicious, he thought.
He decided not to wait for Hanna’s return. She was supposed to have been gone for only a few hours but had not showed up yet. Knowing his daughter, anything was possible. He was eager to move the day along so that he and Biddy could watch an entire film before his wife would get tired and fall asleep. He had shortlisted several films which he thought his wife might enjoy but he could not make up his mind. After the last few evenings where Hanna had entertained her mother with silly musicals he felt inclined to make a similar choice, but was not confident that he was the right company for Biddy to watch those films with. Would ‘Chicago’ be of any use, without Hanna there to cheer Biddy on?
In the end he settled for ‘The Philadelphia Story’, a classic screw ball comedy that Biddy had always loved, not least for its leading actors. The story line might intellectually be a little too demanding for his wife but it had enough slap stick moments to promise a pleasant evening.
Unfortunately Hanna came home early, before her parents had managed to settle into the film. Instantly distracted and excited by her daughter’s arrival, Biddy got up and paid no more attention to the TV.
Walter tried to set his wife up for telling the story about the swans and the dogs, but that memory was gone.
“Swans? You are talking a lot of nonsense today,” she said to Walter. “There are no swans here.”
“Not now,” Walter tried, unwilling to give up without further efforts to regain a memory for his wife. “We just went to the lake. The same as yesterday when you went to the lake with Hanna. The dog that chased the swans? That happened only two hours ago!”
“Daddy, you are upsetting her now. Leave her be,” Hanna said,
“Pumpkin, I can’t just sit back and let the disease take everything away from our life without a fight,” Walter said forcefully. “Sometimes you need to fight back. Biddy still has moments of clarity, she needs to try and remember. We need to challenge her. That swan and dog thing happened twice, that should stick somewhere in her grey matter.”
Biddy said nothing now and just stared sheepishly at the floor.
“What did you see at the lake?” Walter probed his wife.
“A lake? Oh my. But it is dark now!” Biddy protested.
“We are not going to a lake,” Walter said. “We already went this afternoon. The swans? The dog chasing them? Remember?”
“Swans,” Biddy said, nonsensical. “Swans, ha!”
“This afternoon I took you to the lake, Biddy. There was a dog chasing the swans,” Walter repeated, a bit more patient and encouraging.
“Dog. Hmmn.”
“Yes, Biddy. A swan and a dog. By the lake.”
“No, no, no,” Biddy said confused and shook her head. Her eyes looked fearful.
Hanna was quite shocked at the extreme disorientation her mother so suddenly displayed.
“I thin
k you need to leave her alone,” she said quietly to her father. “You are getting her all worked up.”
“Dammit!” Walter hissed. “Why can’t she simply remember?”
He slammed his fist on the table and paced around the room.
“I told you many times,” he said. “You had a run of very lucky days as far as her illness is concerned. Since you got here she has been in great shape, but there are phases where it is really bad, just like this. She makes no sense at all now, does she?”
“If you know that, why are you pushing her? You are just aggravating her instead of reassuring.”
“As I said, I am trying to get a rise out of her,” Walter explained. “Yes you are right, she has withdrawn now. But I owe it to her as her partner to try, maybe once snap her back to reality, at least give it a good shot. Look at her, she doesn’t seem there, I can’t always watch and accept it, that would be giving up.”
“Maybe it is because we are staying in a stranger’s place. Maybe we should go back to your house,” Hanna suggested.
“That probably would be best but now that we are already sort of established here we might as well stay a little longer. I am not convinced we are out of the woods as far as your press drama is concerned. Right now I would like her to settle back in to the film and get her to bed early. She did not sleep much this afternoon.”
“Of course, I am meeting Karim for a meal anyway,” Hanna said and went to her room.
Biddy sat subdued on the sofa. When Walter restarted the film she stared at the TV screen, but he could not discern whether she took any notice of what went on or not.
Walter sat next to her and held her hand but she did not reciprocate, her hand was lifeless and numb. What had been a wonderful day was now spoilt and overshadowed by his outburst and how he had made his beloved wife feel. He was ashamed of himself.
Only a week ago he had felt that everything was still under control. He might not be infallible but he was pretty confident that his methods had worked with Biddy. As long as he stuck to the routines she seemed to be doing alright. Then Hanna had come back and threatened to turn his routines upside down. The seemingly effortless success of her methods with Biddy undermined him and chipped away at his confidence.
It was days like today where he realised how helpless they all were. He felt powerless in the face of a disease that kept changing its ugly face. What had been clear as day had quickly turned into mist.
People took their health for granted and they did the same with the powers of their mind. It was scary to see it crumble to pieces so quickly in Biddy. He worried it might hit him too. He could not afford to get Alzheimer’s disease as well; he had sole responsibility for his wife now.
A science magazine had recently mentioned a link of Alzheimer’s disease to diabetes and he had immediately gone and got himself tested. Luckily he was not at risk.
Before that, a national newspaper had published a big article about the importance of Vitamin D in battling Alzheimer’s disease. He had also heard that ginkgo and ginseng had positive benefits so he had ordered large quantities of those on-line and took several tablets of them each day. He also secretly slipped some into Biddy’s pill cocktail, once in a while.
He felt the fight in him draining away and he let himself sink into the sofa. At that moment Biddy’s hand squeezed his at last.
Hanna did not want to disturb her parents and so she decided to sneak out of the house without them noticing. Karim had invited her to come in as she arrived to pick him up, and asked her to say hello to Fariba, who had requested a chat with the stewardess.
“Please wait outside darling,” the mother told her son when Hanna entered the room.
“Oh don’t, mother!” Karim protested.
“Just go,” Fariba ordered him and the son reluctantly obliged. “Hanna, sit down here,” she said, gesturing to a comfy chair beside the bed.
The visitor sat down as she was told, looking at her hostess with watchful eyes.
“I will come straight to the point,” Fariba continued. “I would like to hire you as my assistant.”
“An assistant doing what?” Hanna asked. “Dating your son?”
“No, no, no. Nothing like that,” Fariba replied. “I might be desperate to get him hitched but I am not ready to pay for it just yet. I have quite different plans. Big ones and I need someone just like you.”
“Ooh! Please continue!” said Hanna, amused.
“Well, I have been thinking about writing my memoirs for years, but somehow I never got round to it. Since I had the stroke I might have the time for it but I can’t really type or make notes; you were so interested in my life and asked so many questions the thought had reoccurred to me and won’t let me be. You see, I need someone who is interested in the subject and doesn’t just do it for the money.”
“But I don’t have any experience in that field at all. I am not a secretary!” Hanna protested.
“I know, but I think you are prefect for the job: well-travelled, worldly wise, experienced and open minded.”
“You don’t even know if I can type fast enough,” Hanna protested.
“Speed would not matter. I want to get the stories right: I am not in a rush. Lying here all day I have plenty of time. Unless I die soon, of course. I am going stir crazy without a project to keep me busy. Do you know how long a day can be if you have nothing to do? Of course, you wouldn’t because you busy people appreciate a free day more than anything. However, if you have nothing but free days they start to drag. Trust me I would love to have something to do and I believe I have things to say that others may want to read about.”
“But I am never here. Maybe in a week’s time or two I will be back flying all over the world. You need to find someone local,” Hanna said,
“I am offering you a full time position. You would not have to fly any more. You would be living somewhere near here or with your mother,” Fariba suggested.
“That is very generous of you but I can’t give up my job like that for a short term project. I have a career and my life in London. I don’t think you thought this through from my perspective,” Hanna said.
“There you are wrong. I have thought about you a lot. I can see right through you and your mask. You are stuck in a golden cage. You have not once spoken about how much you love your job. You are talking about the side effects that it brings with it but you are not fooling me for one minute that it is worth the less fortunate aspects of your profession.”
Hanna stood aghast as Fariba reeled all this off so casually. That was her professional life in a nutshell, summarised by a complete stranger, with startling precision. How could this old lady have nailed it so completely after meeting her only twice?
“Now let me explain the offer a bit more,” Fariba said, with a business like tone. “I would match your current salary and private pension contributions. You would be coming here every day but we would arrange your hours so you can also be with your mother and have spare time to yourself. I realise you are used to luxurious free moments in hotels all over the world. We will make sure that you get some of that. While you are here we will work on the book, but if you agreed you might be called upon to help with my care so that Karim and Shahnaz are free during those times.”
“Where would you get the money for my salary? If you have savings like that you should get professional help for both positions, instead of hiring someone as unqualified as myself?” Hanna said astonished.
“You have all the qualifications that I want, Hanna. Did you not hear me? I could have hired help a long time ago but the problem was that I did not want to rob my children of the opportunity to care for me. That may sound silly but family means a lot to us. Over the last year things have become tougher for Shahnaz but she would never let me hire a nurse, or let me go into a home,” Fariba explained.
“Then how is she going to accept me?” Hanna wondered.
“She trusts you: she has already agreed to the plan,” Fariba said proudly.
<
br /> “If this is about your son then you are hiring the wrong girl,” Hanna warned her. “Karim and I are only friends.”
“Darling, I have long given up on match making; it only works in fairy tales and cheap novels. You young people always do what you want to do,” Fariba said rather convincingly. “Just like I always did what I wanted. If I could manipulate you as easily as that my life would be very easy, but I know better than to even try. The reason I chose you is that your personality fits us so perfectly. You are a great listener but have a mind of your own. I don’t want a repressed book worm of a secretary who has great short hand and typing qualifications but has no idea of the life you and I have led. I want a foxy young woman with a sharp brain, and someone who is stubborn and honest enough to tell me when she thinks I am rambling on too much. You have guts but you are also warm and kind.”
“Your offer is a short term project and I would have to give up my long term job. You must realise I can’t do that,” Hanna pointed out.
“Yes, I can’t guarantee you life-long employment. That is true. I am helping you to find a way out of your current situation; I can tell that you have lived this flying life for far too long. You worry about your mother, you would like to be more grounded, but you are trapped in that glamorous and exciting life. You are stuck in something that was fun and fabulous when you were younger, and now you lack a worthwhile incentive to get out of that habit and look for happiness elsewhere. Am I right?”
“You are not entirely wrong,” Hanna admitted, after a few moments’ thought, “but I am not as unhappy in my current life as you seem to think. As much as I appreciate your offer and your genuine concern, I wouldn’t give up flying under these circumstances. The whole business with your son and his interest in me, that could easily blow up in our face and then I would be left without any job.”
“Then you underestimate me!” Fariba said. “We will draw up proper legal documents. You will get certain guarantees and job security. You are the kind of girl I want for my son. I am not pretending anything else but you are also the kind of woman I want for myself. If dating him is not going to keep you in my life, than maybe the job will. Your mother is not going to live forever, and you know that. Moving back here and working for me will give you a lot of time with her. I am a generous boss to work for. If there is anything the matter with her you can take time off easily, that is more than the airline can offer, I’m sure. You do not want to be in Singapore if she suddenly needed you. Shahnaz works from home so she has a certain degree of flexibility to help out when you are unavailable. There is no time pressure with my memoirs: they are just a hobby for me. We are not in a rush, quite the opposite. I would like to stretch the project out for as long as I can.”
Time to Let Go Page 20
