Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
He messages back right away to tell me he just got a call from the night nurse and that he’s relieved that she’s with me and not wandering the streets. He asks me to keep her talking and says that he’ll be here as soon as he can.
Miles’s mother—Tabitha—stands in front of the open fridge peering at the contents. “I can’t remember what I’m looking for.”
“You were going to make a snack,” I remind her.
“Oh yes. A snack is a good idea. We can have tea and cookies.”
“That sounds perfect.” I open the cupboard where Prince Francis’s treats are stored and shake the container. He comes trotting into the kitchen a few seconds later, meowing loudly.
“Oh! There’s my boy! I missed you, Prince Francis!” Tabitha crouches and I pass her the treats so she can feed him. He rubs himself on her legs and purrs.
“He missed you too, very much.”
“I feel like I’ve been away for a long time, but I’m not sure why.” She gives me a small smile. “That happens a lot. I forget things.”
“Do you know how you got here today?” I ask.
She purses her lips and rubs under Prince Francis’s chin. “I must have walked?” She blinks a few times, as if she’s searching her memory. “I came from the hospital, maybe?”
Based on what Miles has told me, the wing where she’s staying is a bit less secure than the rest of the hospital. “Do you remember why you were there?”
She shakes her head and picks Prince Francis up, holding him like a baby. “Do you know?”
“Why don’t you sit down and cuddle with Prince Francis. I can explain what I know and see if it helps jog your memory at all.” Hearing about Miles’s mother is a lot different from witnessing it firsthand.
She nods and sinks into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. I put the kettle on and drop teabags into mugs, then set the milk and sugar on the table and take a seat across from her. “You remember being in the hospital?” I’m not sure how quickly her memories surface and fade, and I have no experience with dementia. I’ve worked with other clients who have parents who suffer the same affliction, but I’ve never met or talked to someone whose memory has started to fail them in the way it seems Tabitha’s has.
“Yes. But I don’t feel sick.”
I smile gently. “You’re not sick physically. When Miles called me to ask if I could help him look after Prince Francis, it was because you’d left the house in the middle of the night and ended up downtown, unsure how you got there or why you were there. You’d forgotten.”
She nods slowly. “I forget things.” Prince Francis settles in her lap, and she strokes along his back, gaze drifting across the room. “Sometimes I’m not sure if I’m living in the past or the present. This house does that to me.”
My heart clenches, and I swallow past the lump in my throat. “You have a lot of memories here.”
She hums her agreement. “Not all of them good, though.” She drops her head. “I lost my youngest son when he was just a boy.”
It must be heartbreaking to live inside a mind that tricks you constantly, making you believe the things you’ve lost are still there one minute, and then taking them away again the next. “Miles’s younger brother, Toby. Miles told me you lost him when he was only eight.”
“It was such a tragedy. I couldn’t get over the loss. And then I lost Miles and his father because I couldn’t let go of Toby.” She lifts her shaking fingers to her lips.
“That must have broken your heart.” Losing my father, and feeling the weight of responsibility, was crushing, but to lose a child and then have your family fall apart, too, that would be soul shattering. Maybe mind breaking.
“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have left Miles in charge of Toby. He’d just gotten a brand-new two-wheeler. I should have left the gardens alone and gone out with him for half an hour, but I was too caught up in picking the tomatoes before the squirrels got to them. Toby came outside and asked if he could ride his bike, and I told him to ask Miles to watch him. Miles was playing his video game—he had half an hour after school to play, and he was so good about sticking to that timeline. But it was a new game, and hockey, which he’s very fond of.” She smiles faintly, but it dissolves into sadness once again. “I guess he took too long to finish his level, and Toby went outside without him and we lost him.”
Hearing the story from Tabitha sheds a different light on it. And I can see that Miles isn’t the only one who feels culpability. “I’m so sorry. What a terrible tragedy for you and your family.”