His Wants

7

The next couple of days, I loved waking to flirtatious texts each morning from Terry. He took me to see my uncle as often as I wanted. Until, there was one day when my uncle didn't know who I was, it shattered me. I tried so hard, I kept telling him my name, I told him of how he raised me, the memories we had. He couldn't remember.

"I'm sorry, Ella, was it? I don't know you. You seem very sweet. If you want to visit me, please, I enjoy talking with you," he said with a huge smile as he always had on his face. I had to leave, all I could do was tell him that I would come back.

"Dr. Shree," I said through my sniffling, "How could he not remember me? I know he's sick but since when has he had Alzheimer's?"

The kind doctor sighed, placing a hand on my shoulder, "I'm sorry, Ella, he didn't want to tell you that this is why he wanted to be here full time. He would feel himself slipping while you would be at work, the last time he had an episode was when he was being picked up. He thought he was being kidnapped, then once he was in the van he knew where he was going. It's gotten worse, I'm afraid."

All I could do was nod, thank the doctor for his honesty and leave. Terry waited in the car for me, he was immediately out of the car and meeting me halfway when he saw me crying, bringing me to his chest he rubbed soft circles against my back, I sobbed into his chest, fisting his shirt with all my strength, hiccupping and dry heaving. I couldn't bear this, I knew he was sick, I was naïve to think he'd live forever. He was already in his 80s, he lived a good long life, I tried my best to care for him when I could.

"Shhh, sshhh, sweetie," Terry said softly, holding me, "You want to go home?"

I shook my head in his chest. "No? Ok, you want to come with me?" I nodded. "Ok, let's go sweetheart." Gently taking my hand he took me to his car. I felt awful, I cried the whole way to his house, Terry kept a hand on my leg or on the back of my neck, just letting me know he was there. I kept my face buried in my hands.

When we got to his house, he wouldn't even let me get out of the car, he lifted me, carrying me like a bride into the house and up to his room. I kept telling him I could walk, he insisted he carry me, placing me gently on his bed he slipped my shoes off, "Terry," I sniffled, "You don't have to-"

"I want to," he cut me off gently. He had me lay down, he kicked his shoes off and crawled over next to me, saying quietly, "If there's one thing I've learned when I was in therapy, it was to allow yourself to feel what your body is forcing you to feel." I curled into him, he wrapped his strong arms around me like he was trying to hold together all of the broken pieces.

I sniffled, "I-I'm sorry, Terry," I said quietly, "I had planned on making us dinner tonight and I ruined the plans."

"Oh, honey," he murmured, "Don't apologize, Ella. Let yourself feel what you're feeling, your uncle is important to you, and what's going on with him is troubling. I'm here for you, whatever you need."

Clenching his shirt even tighter, I buried my face in him, "I just want to lay here a while, but not too long. He wouldn't want me worrying like this or crying over him. He'd tell me, 'Ells, fix yourself up, don't mope. You have a life, live it and be happy.' He's always good for saying stuff like that."

"He sounds like a good man. You were raised by a great guy. How about we lay here until you start to calm down a little bit, then we can figure out what to do for the rest of the day." Terry, what did I do to deserve this man. He let me lay there curled in him, clenching his shirt, he listened to my babbling about the stories of my uncle before he lost himself. The trips my uncle would take me to the beaches, the Christmases he'd make special for me.