“You do not have the gene, Diane. As soon as we had a diagnosis, I had you tested, and every year until you went to college, I had you checked during your annual physical. Thank God, you do not carry the gene. If you did, I would have told you when you were old enough to understand. I never wanted you to suffer the way your mother has. I did what I thought was best for you at the time.”
“Is this why Mom alienates herself from me? After so many years, didn’t you think at some point that I deserved to know the truth?”
“I argued with your mother until I was blue in the face. She never forgave herself for neglecting you when you were a baby. It’s a part of the illness honey. Your mother has difficulty accepting reality. You saw it yourself when you were sick. I couldn’t stop her from seeing you. She slips in and out of reality so easily these days, and if she doesn’t take her medicine every day, it gets worse. We know what happened in the park, and your mother blames herself for what happened to you. She’s had a psychotic break, Diane. Barbara has been in a psychiatric facility since that night.”
*****
My mind is a whirlwind of emotions. I’m angry with my father, deeply upset for my mother, and resentful that I’ve lost so much of my childhood with her due to secrets and lies. “What do you want me to do about this Dad? I can’t go back in time. How do you expect me to live with this? My children do not know their grandmother or you because of lies and secrets.”
“I don’t want anything Diane. I only want to explain why we’ve stayed away from you. Managing your mother’s condition is draining honey, and I’m pushing seventy. I don’t know how much longer she will be able to live at home. It kills me saying this, but it’s time for your mother to have full-time care. I no longer have the strength to help her.”
I am about to make a decision that I know may hurt me emotionally. I need to see my mother. “I want to see her as soon as possible.”
“No,” Ethan yells at me. “You are not putting yourself in a position to be hurt again. I won’t let you do that to yourself. You’re pregnant for god’s sake. Think about the baby.”
“Ethan,” I say as calmly as possible, “The baby is fine. I’m going to do this with both eyes open this time. I know what to expect, and I know that whatever my mother says to me it’s because she’s sick. It’s different this time, Ethan. I need to see her.”
“I’m coming with you, or you won’t see her. I’m not backing down on this Diane.”
“I want you to come with me. I don’t want to do this alone.”
I ask my Dad, “When can we see her?”
“Is tomorrow too soon?”
“Tomorrow’s fine. It’s Saturday, and Ethan doesn’t have hours at the hospital on the weekend. What facility is she in?”
“Your mother is in Bayview, room 401. Visiting hours are from ten in the morning, until six at night. I want to come with you. What time do you want me here tomorrow?”
“Be here at twelve. I need time in the morning. I’m still suffering from morning sickness, and I need a little extra time. Let’s have dinner.”
I manage to shove some of the food down my throat, but I don’t taste anything. Ethan and my father barely speak, and an hour later, my dad goes home. I’m drained emotionally, and Ethan and I need a few minutes to absorb this devastating news.
“Everything makes sense now Ethan. How sad is it that my parents would not share this with me?”
“It’s a personal issue, Diane. I’ve seen patients not share a diagnosis with family members for fear of being ostracized or treated differently. Mental illness is still a sensitive subject for many people. They go out of their way to appear as normal as possible. Your mother probably felt that way and made your father promise not to tell you. As a doctor, I can understand this mentality, but as your husband, I’m angry that this was kept from you. Any type of genetic inheritance should be shared with everyone involved. I shudder to think about how this could have affected our children, including the baby you carry now. At least your father had the foresight to test you at an early age. The genetic markers are easy to diagnose, and I thank God you do not have the gene.”
“That’s why I am so angry. I could have passed this to our children without every knowing this existed in my family. As a parent, it is your responsibility to protect your children, and having a mental illness is not something you keep a secret.”
“Will you be okay seeing your mother tomorrow?” Ethan asks me with concern in his voice.
“I think so. At least I hope I’ll be ok. I haven’t had a normal conversation with my mother since I was a teenager. We’ve always bickered about something. I don’t want to do that tomorrow, so if you see me going off the rails, squeeze my arm.”
“I will honey. I’ll always have your back.”
I sigh and lean into my husband. “And that’s why I love you so much.” Ethan wraps his hand around my neck and pulls me closer to him. His lips brush against mine as he intensifies the kiss. He is about to push me back onto the sofa when I hear Kellie scream, “Yuck, do you have to do that on the couch?”
Ethan breaks the kiss and cracks up laughing. “Doing that is how we got you, little girl!”
“Too much information Dad,” I hear Joey yell as he drags Kellie from the room.
God, I love my children.
Chapter Forty-Three
Ethan
I am not happy about this visit today, but I cannot stop my wife from seeing her mother. I worry that Diane will not have the closure she is expecting to receive. She’s trying to hide the fact that she’s nervous, but I can see it on her face.
“You always have the choice to cancel the visit, Diane. I don’t want you to get sick today. How do you feel?”
“I’m a little nauseous, and thankfully I didn’t throw up this morning. I have crackers and ginger ale in my bag just in case I feel yukky. I’m just past the first trimester, and I hope the morning sickness goes away soon.”
William arrives at our house at eleven-thirty, and he looks as nervous as Diane does. This is not going to be a comfortable visit, and if I see it going downhill, we’re leaving as quickly as possible. The drive to the facility is quiet. William is behind us in his car, because I don’t want him in the car with us. Diane stares out the window and twists her fingers as she usually does when she’s nervous. I reach over and cover her hands with mine. “We can still turn around and go home, Diane. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. I just want to get this over with and leave as soon as possible. Let’s go someplace fun when we leave.”
I think about this for a minute. Bike riding is out of the question, and I decide a trip to the zoo is just what we need. Twenty minutes later, I park the car and hold Diane’s hand as we follow William into the building. We check in, receive our visitor tags, and walk to the elevator. Diane looks pale, and I ask her again if she’s okay. Diane nods her head yes.
I’ve never been in this facility before today, and it’s a nice place, overall. As we approach Barbara’s room, Diane pauses and takes a deep breath. “Ready?” I ask her. She nods again, and we walk into the hospital room.
Barbara is sitting in bed watching television, and when she hears us come into the room her eyes fill with tears, and she covers her face with her hands. My beautiful wife has a kind heart and walks over to her bed, sits next to her, and holds her mother’s hand. “Is it really you Diane? Daddy told me you remember us. Do you remember me, baby?”
“Yes, I remember you, Mom. Did Daddy tell you about the baby?”
“Yes, he did, and I am so happy for you honey. You are my beautiful little girl. You do know Mommy loves you. I’m so sorry honey. Daddy told me he spoke to you about my sickness. I’m sorry you have to see me this way. I must look awful.”
“You look beautiful Mom. You always have. How do you feel today?”
“I have good days and bad days. Today is a good day because you came to visit me. I have so much to say to you, Diane.”
I have no
idea what she wants to say to Diane, but I will listen without judgment. I can visibly see that she is sick, and it breaks my heart because she is still Diane’s mother. I remember the confrontations I had with her parents, and I now understand the behavior and William’s unwillingness to intervene. I stand behind my wife and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“I was so happy the day you were born. I always wanted a baby girl, and I was so happy when we brought you home from the hospital. Daddy and I had a good life until I got sick. It’s hard to explain. I felt fine one minute, and the next I felt confused, disoriented, and tired. I was afraid to leave the house. I couldn’t keep the house organized. I did not take care of you properly. Everything scared me. I couldn’t sleep, my friends no longer called me, and I just didn’t care about anything. It got worse when I lost the baby. I wanted to die, and then Daddy took me to the hospital.”
“I found out a few years later that some of my relatives on my father’s side of the family suffer from mental illness. I was afraid to be around you, Diane. The voices in my head told me to hurt you, and I fought so hard not to hurt my baby. They gave me powerful drugs that dulled my mind. I didn’t want you to see me that way, so I pushed you away from me. I had to push you away to protect you from me. I made Daddy swear he would never tell you the truth. I had to protect my baby.”
She looks up at me and continues speaking. “You are a good man Ethan, and I am so happy you married my baby. The two of you have beautiful children, and it saddens me that I am not a part of their lives, but the illness changes me. I become a bitter, ugly woman. I don’t want them to see me that way. I’m sorry about what happened that night. You’ll never know how sorry I am. I know this will kill me some day, and I can leave this world with peace in my heart because my daughter has you to love her.”
“Diane honey, I’m having a clear day today, but this is not the norm for me. Most days I am confused and don’t know where I am. Daddy’s tried his best to take care of me, but I think it’s time to face reality. I’ve spent so many years avoiding reality and look where I am now. This is where I belong, in a treatment facility. Today is a good day because you came to visit me. I want to hold on to this day until the illness robs my mind of my memories. Now I know how you felt after the accident. I didn’t believe you because my mind couldn’t face reality. When I’m gone, take care of Daddy. I do love him. Before you leave, please tell me you forgive me. You are still my little girl, and I love you so much.”
“I do forgive you Mom, and I love you too.”
Diane
I kiss my mother goodbye and follow my father out of the room. Ethan is behind me and when I get far enough away from my mom’s room, I lose my composure and fall into Ethan’s arms. “Get me out of here, please.” I take one last look at my father as I walk toward the elevator. My mind is reeling with ‘what if’s.’ I’ve lost so much time with my parents, and none of this was necessary. Did they honestly believe I would shun my mother because she has an illness? How little they think of me if that’s how they thought I would react. Well, now I know the truth, and it does nothing to ease the ache in my heart. My mother will slowly lose her mind. How can I help her? Do I want to help her?
Once we are in the parking lot, I feel like I can breathe again. I don’t need this turmoil while I’m pregnant, but how can I turn my back on my mother? Ethan is all over me. He’s holding me in his arms, and I feel his hand move down to caress our baby, and then moves to my pulse point.
“Take a few deep breaths, honey. I can feel your pulse racing. This is not good for the baby. Take a deep breath in through the nose, exhale through your mouth. That’s it sweetheart, nice and slow. Do it again. Everything will be okay baby; I’ve got you.”
He does have me, and I love him with every fiber of my being. I feel myself relax and laugh when he checks my pulse again. I’d be lost without Ethan. I need him as I need the air to breathe. “I’m okay now. Can we get out of here?” As I get into the car, I see my father exit the building. The look on his face crushes me. He looks dazed, confused, and so sad. I’ve never seen my dad look the way he does now. At that moment, I remember all the fun we had together when I was a little girl. He compensated for my mother, and I never saw it. I am so lost in my memories that I never noticed Ethan turn onto Girard Avenue. We’re going to the zoo.
We park the car and walk to the zoo’s entrance gates. I love it here, and I have happy memories not only from my childhood but also with Ethan and the kids. The fountain draws my attention because it was the first picture Ethan showed me after I awoke from the operation. I sit on the ledge and cry for all of us. Ethan sits next to me and wraps an arm around me.
“It’s going to be okay baby, let it out. I know this is a sad day for you, and I’m sorry about your mother.”
“All I can think of is why? Why did they keep this from me? Am I such an awful person that they couldn’t trust me, or think I wouldn’t understand? She’s sick, and I never knew it. How do I live with this?”
“As difficult as this is Diane, you must remember that with any illness, it’s the patient’s prerogative to keep the facts of their illness a secret. I’ve seen it many times honey. It’s not your fault, you are not to blame, and you will not bear the burden on your shoulders. Your mother and father made an informed decision. It’s not your responsibility to understand why. Your focus should be on our baby growing inside of you. Everything else is secondary. Your parents had over thirty years to share this with you. They failed you in many ways Diane, and I don’t want you to get sick over this.”
Ethan’s right, but why do I suddenly feel like I need to do something? “What can I do? This illness is incurable, and even with drugs and therapy, there’s no magic pill to take it away from my mother. I have one seriously fucked up family, don’t I? In some ways, I’m glad I didn’t know about this when I was younger. I don’t think I would have handled it in the proper way when I was a teenager.”
“If your mother feared she would hurt you, your parents made the correct decision for your safety,” Ethan said with sincerity in his voice. “We can’t go back in time, wave a magic wand, and wish the problem to go away. Schizophrenia is a serious illness, and stress can worsen the condition. Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you.”
“What I want to do is help my mother. Whatever happened or did not happen in the past, she is still my mom, and the little girl inside of me still loves her.”
Ethan kisses my neck, and I feel his love for me. “Then that’s what we’ll do. Come on; let’s take a walk around the zoo. I know you want to see the flamingos.”
“I do, and then I want a hot dog, cheese fries, and a large soda. I am eating for two these days.”
*****
One week and five visits later, I now know why my father kept this from me. The highs and lows, along with the sharp changes in temperament are painful to see. My mother’s mood changes hour to hour, and I’ve seen this firsthand. Several times, she had to be sedated. After a particularly rough visit, I asked my father to have lunch with me. We found a nice restaurant not far from the hospital, and after we place our orders, my father reaches across the table and holds my hands in his. I have a sudden urge to cry. It’s been so long since my dad had shown me any type of affection, and I feel like I’m five years old again.
“I am so proud of you Diane,” my father said in a gruff voice. “I know seeing your mother today was difficult. She has been like this for close to three years. The bad days now outnumber the good ones. There is only so much medication can do to minimize her symptoms. We’ve tried all of them, and some had serious side effects. It will only get worse as time passes. I want you to be prepared for the day when she no longer recognizes you or wishes to see you.”
I am saddened to hear this. “How bad is it, Dad?”
“Your mother slips in and out of reality more often than usual, and I was so afraid to leave the house. Several times, when I came home, all the burners were on high, and your mo
ther was asleep in the living room. She could have burned down the house. I asked her why she turned them on, and she couldn’t remember why. We became prisoners in our own home. After your accident, Barbara appeared to be okay, so we went to the hospital. In hindsight, I should have gone alone because Barbara’s condition deteriorated when we saw you after the operation. She went downhill fast, and her condition has gotten worse. It’s no longer safe for her to live in the house. I constantly worry something will happen if I leave the house for something. After what you had been through, and well, also because of our strained relationship, I felt it was best to handle this by myself.”
I squeeze my father’s hand. “I’m sorry Dad for everything. I’m sorry you felt you could not trust me with the truth, but I do understand that you had to respect Mom’s wishes. It was an awful position for you to be in because it affected our relationship. Ethan and I went to the zoo last week, and I had so many happy memories of us going there as a child. I missed so much time with you, and I want you to know my kids, including the baby that I’m carrying now. It’s not too late for us Daddy. I want you in my life and in my children’s life. You have a standing invitation to dinner every Sunday, and I want to see you often. Please Daddy; I need to spend time with you.”
“I’d like that sweetheart, more than you know.”
“That’s good because I will be angry if you bail out on me.”
My father and I enjoy a relaxing lunch together and drive back to the hospital. I’ve had enough for one day and went home to my family. The only things I can do for my parents are to love and support them during this difficult time. My mother’s health will continue to deteriorate, and it is no longer if, but when I will lose her.
Ethan
Eight months later
It’s two in the morning, and I’m on bottle duty. My daughter, Olivia, is awake and screaming for her bottle. This is my favorite time of the day because I get to spend quality time with my daughter. Kellie is beside herself because she now has a sister. Joey is so busy with school that we hardly see him, even though he lives in the house with us.
Barbara’s condition continues to deteriorate, and most days, she does not recognize us. Diane stopped going to the hospital when Olivia was born. I think it’s just too much watching her mother slip away. It’s sad because Barbara will never know her new baby granddaughter. I believe it is why Diane spends so much time with Kellie. The two of them are joined at the hip, and I can understand why.