RUINED FOR LIFE

Chapter 3 - Lou

Exhaustion came over me as I finished my chores. Cleaning the house is not usually part of my job description, but I love a tidy space and always do what I can whenever I’m at the Miller’s. One would think I have OCD because of how clean I am.

Adam Miller and his wife, Susan, live in a cozy bungalow in Albany. They were the perfect suburban couple, with their house being almost identical to the rest of the street. Adam and Susan are just over 60 and are by far the cutest elderly couple I’ve ever seen. Even though Susan is in a wheelchair, she always tries to be closest to her husband as much as possible. Adam doesn't have a problem with it and constantly makes jokes about her being clingy after 40 years of marriage. It’s just the cutest thing ever.

The miller's house has stark brown wood walls, a contrast to the white paintings that surround the outer walls of the bungalow. They have three bedrooms; one is used when their children visit, and occasionally, I occupy the other one when I need to stay overnight. Everything in the house is modest, from the appliances and paintings to the curtains and rugs. One would never know the Millers are sitting on wads of cash by just looking at the house. Figuratively, of course.

Adam was a department store owner in his prime. He built his business from scratch and became the owner of one of the most widespread departments in all of California. His stores have everything and anything that screams luxury. He's a firm believer in entrepreneurship and sometimes houses upcoming brands in his stores. He's generous like that. Adam has left the company for his son and is living cozily with his wife, forever done with working late hours to spend the last few months his wife has left with her.

I cherish my job immensely for many reasons. One of them is because it allows me to provide hope to people during their most despairing times. I’ve been Susan’s caretaker for over six months now, and it’s been quite an experience. Susan is not as difficult as other patients I’ve worked with, but she's also not the easiest. She got diagnosed with Alzheimer’s eight months before I was hired and Adam tried his best the first two months, but he didn't quite have the agility and strength to keep up.

One of the things that makes Susan my not-so-easiest patient is her mood swings. There was a time when she was so mad and kept screaming and throwing things at me. I tried speaking calmly, trying to get her to tell me why she was so mad, but it didn't work. Susan threw a book at me and I passed out. When I came to, Adam was standing over me with a pained expression, telling me how sorry he was through his eyes. I understood him quite well. Susan acted like nothing happened, and the day went on without further tantrums. One can’t particularly fault the poor woman; she didn’t ask for her life to turn out the way it did and that’s something we have no control over and that’s how cruel someone’s destiny can be. Beneath the mess in her head, Susan is a lovely and caring woman. That’s always how she’s portrayed in the stories Adam tells me.

I walked out onto the front porch, and I was not surprised at the sight before me. Susan is in her wheelchair with her head right on Adam's shoulder as he sits in his rocking chair. He's singing to her, something he does to get her to sleep. This time it’s a song I’ve never heard him sing before. He stumbles over some words as though trying to remember the exact lyrics, but none of that matters. What matters most is that it works and soon enough, Susan is sleeping peacefully next to him.

“What song was that?” I asked in a hushed tone.

“Let's Stay Together" by Al Green. It’s been one of Susan’s favorite songs for as long as I can remember," Adam replies with a wistful smile on his face.

"It's a lovely song."

"Would have been more lovely if she remembered it and sang along". Susan has been losing more and more of her memory as the days went by. Sometimes she forgets who Adam was, and you could tell it tore a piece of his heart from the hurt in his face. But it's part of what Susan has to go through. It won't be long before she loses everything, and I'm not just talking about her memories now.

A text alert ruined the moment and I fished out my phone from my pocket to find a message from my boss.

Get to the office asap. No preamble, no greeting, nothing. My face paled.

“I have to go; my boss needs me”.

"Sure, go ahead. I can take over from here"

I raced over to my car and drove off as if my life depended on it, and who knows, my life might depend on it.