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Sophie felt salty tear drops stinging her eyes as she pushed the code into the keypad that would open the door. Her husband, Ethan, stood a few meters away pleading, “Please take me with you. Please take me home.” She did not turn around as she exited. There was a worker gently holding Ethan’s arm who would guide him back to his room.

Walking to the parking lot, she let the droplets run down her face and off her chin. This was a daily routine and today’s pleadings gave her a more intense gut-punch than usual which is why she didn’t look at him when she left – she could only take so much. She was grieving her husband, who hadn’t yet passed away.

Sitting in her car, Sophie could only find an empty Kleenex package. She put her hand in her coat pocket and found a dried tissue from another visit. It would have to do.

Of course Ethan wanted to go home. Everyone longed for the familiar place where they felt most comfortable. But, Sophie did not know which ‘home’ Ethan meant.

After purchasing a strong coffee, she drove to a nearby park, pulled into an empty space and closed her eyes while the robust caffeine coursed through her veins.

Sophie let her mind wander. She was thankful that her brain could invent memories that never existed. It was the only solace she had been able to find.

She envisioned Ethan walking their daughter, Courtney, down the aisle at her wedding. She imagined the redolence of the salt water emanating from the bay while watching Ethan and their son, Clark, fishing for mackerel, something they talked about but never did – except in her own mind.

A tap on the window jolted her back to reality. She turned to face a police officer and rolled down the window.

He smiled and asked, “Are you okay, Ma’am?”

Sophie wiped her face with the already sodden tissue and stumbled out the words, “Yes. Yes. Sorry…I…no, I was just…”

Moving a little closer and tilting his head, the officer said, “I saw you sitting here obviously upset. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Sophie managed a hint of a smile and replied, “No. Really I’m okay. Well not exactly okay. I’m having a bit of a tough time and I was just lost in my thoughts. My husband has Alzheimer’s and I am having trouble dealing…I’m not coping well.”

With compassion in his voice, the officer shared, “My grandmother and aunt both had Alzheimer’s. It is an unforgiving disease that pangs your heart and there is little comfort to be found.”

Sophie responded, “That is an unequivocally precise portrait, Officer. One thing that helps is when people offer to listen, but that is usually a gesture of inactive kindness.”

After a quick look around, the officer said, “I have time to listen. There is a picnic table there where we could sit.”

Sophie, apologetic, quickly replied, “Oh no. I didn’t mean you. I was just making an observation about my own situation.”

He offered, “My name is Chris and that’s not at all what I thought. I am off duty and was on my way home when I noticed your car. Sincerely, let’s chat for a bit.”

Nodding slowly, Sophie opened the car door and the two headed over together. As they walked, Sophie said, “For a start, my name is Sophie.”

A minute or so after they sat facing one another Sophie said, hesitantly, “I am grateful for your time but I do not know where to start.”

Chris smiled, “Usually the beginning is a good choice. I will listen for as long as you want to talk.”

Sophie replied, “Thank you, Chris but I am afraid if I start talking, I won’t stop.”

Chris surveyed the area and said, “It’s quiet here and the breeze is refreshing. I don’t have anywhere to be. Have at it.”

Sophie was right. As she started talking, her words flowed like teeming waves over a waterfall. At points during her monologue she would pause, staring off into the distance then begin anew.

“Ethan and I met when we were in high school and were soon inseparable. We went to the same university where Ethan graduated with an engineering degree and me with a major in literature. We completed each other and our path forward was to spend our lives together. After getting married in 1992, we moved in with Ethan’s grandparents, Lou and Carmel. They lived in a farmhouse 45 kilometers away from the city where Ethan worked as a mass housing engineer and I as the head librarian at the university.

Gram and Gramp were still independent but there was a personal support worker who came three days a week. Home invasions were on the rise at that time so having us sleeping with them in the house at night brought them comfort.

They were fine with the updated elements we added such as a new sofa and a stereo with a cassette player – an update from the 8 Track tapes.

It may sound cliché, but our lives were genuinely uncomplicated. Gram and Gramp went to bed early. On warm summer evenings, we would sit on the front porch swing and talk about our hopes and dreams for the future while being serenaded by the crickets. In colder weather, we cuddled up on the living room sofa and watched movies.

Films that starred Tom Hanks, Robin Williams and Julia Roberts were favourites. We even liked the Pixar movie ‘Toy Story’ and Ethan could do a bang-on impression of Buzz Lightyear. He would often say, “‘To infinity and beyond’ when we were leaving for work.’” Sophie let a little giggle escape and heard Chris’ subtle laugh.

Sophie said, “Oh, dear. I must be boring you to death”

Chris pleasantly responded, “Sophie, yours is an enlightening story and I am enjoying every minute. Please continue.”

Detecting the sincerity in his voice, Sophie went on reminiscing, “In early 1999, Ethan’s grandparents began to need daily help and with their declining health, they both agreed to move to a nearby care home. Though we loved the old farmhouse, it needed major renovations so we decided it was time for a new beginning. After the farmhouse was sold later that year, Ethan and I moved to a newly constructed home about two hours away. We visited his grandparents regularly and, once our children came along, we all enjoyed the family time together for the lengthy drives there and back.

Ethan furthered his education for a year after we moved and started his own company, Sky Ventures, where he designed sky scrapers – a career that was his passion. I lectured in English Literature at the university.

Having our children, Courtney in 2001 and Clark in 2003 gave us the family we had planned for while discussing our future on those cozy evenings sitting on the porch swing. Two kids. Two different sets of activities. Two parents. Two vehicles. It couldn’t have worked out any more perfectly.

I remember when it began; the slide and now the march toward the torturous ending that is yet to come.

Ethan played hockey with a group of friends on Tuesday nights. He would call for a drive home as they often enjoyed a couple of beers afterwards. Once, it was nearly midnight and he still hadn’t called. He never called later than 11 PM and did not answer his cell phone. I drove to the rink and found him sitting on a bench outside, his equipment bag at his feet. I pulled up in front of him, rolled down the window then asked, ‘Sweetie, did you forget to call me?’

For a few moments he had a blank stare, not focusing, and then replied, ‘No. I…um…didn’t know who to call…I didn’t know the number.’

He got into the car and even though I knew something was wrong, again I let it pass. There had been signs that had been going on for months. For example, Ethan would let our dog out then forget to let her back in, would not answer the phone when it rang and occasionally took odd routes when he was driving, seeming to forget where we were going.

Courtney and Clark were both away at university, but often came home on weekends and holidays. There were a couple of times when the kids recounted something odd that had happened with their dad – not knowing what to do at a drive-thru or needing to be reminded to pay at a store. One night when I was out, Ethan let Courtney take his car to visit a friend then became distraught that it was missing and Clark had to talk him out of calling the police to report it stolen.

I think they both knew those were more than slip-ups, but we all opted to believe there was nothing to worry about.

Now, their trips home include visiting their father and they struggle with his condition.

It was on a cold winter night in 2022 when I woke to find Ethan was not in bed. I got up and was momentarily panicked when he wasn’t inside the house. A glow brought me to the kitchen window. Ethan had started a fire in the freezing cold and was standing beside it, his hands much too close to the flames. As I rushed down the steps to the backyard, he leaned back then staggered forward. Thankfully, I got there in time to keep him from falling into the fire.

When I got him inside, I saw both of his hands were already forming large blisters. Knowing the risk of infection I took him to the ER. When I relayed what had happened to the doctor, he asked me to step into another room where he wanted to know if this was the first such incident.

I finally admitted the truth and Ethan was admitted then assessed the next morning. We were both told the news that he had Alzheimer’s and that moving Ethan to a special care home was the only safe option.”

Sophie breathed in a chest full of air then sighed deeply. “Since then I have visited him every single day. Thankfully, his disability insurance and pension now pay the bills and will continue to do so after he is gone. His condition has been worsening for the last several visits and he has been imploring me to take him ‘home’ but I don’t know which ‘home’ he means because he no longer remembers our current house. I am stuck and can’t move forward. I am waiting for my husband to die and I have no idea what comes after that.”

Thinking that her recollection had reached the here-and-now, Chris gently tapped her hands which were folded on the table.

With a voice full of empathy, Chris spoke just above a whisper, “Thank you for sharing your story with me. Though I can’t offer a solution, I will be here if you need to talk.” He reached into his pocket and offered Sophie a card, “This is my cell number. Please call anytime. But…is there anything I can do for you today?”

Sophie faced him with tear filled eyes, “Oh, Chris. Just having you listen has been more than I could have asked for. I need to forage my own way through this maze but I actually feel stronger now. Thanks so much.”

Chris and Sophie made their way back to their cars and waved to one another as they drove away.

Early the next morning, Sophie awoke and had those few seconds of bliss – the time between waking and remembering. She stroked her hand over the empty space beside her. She had not slept on Ethan’s side of the bed since he left although she did sometimes put pillows against her back so it felt like he was there.

Today, she vowed to find out what ‘home’ meant to Ethan and to do everything in her power to give him what he so desperately wanted.

This morning, she sat in the chair closest to Ethan and took his hand. She asked Ethan to look at her; she wanted to see into his eyes – the window to his soul even though his memory was corrupted.

She asked him several times throughout her visit that day and for several days after about his desire to go ‘home’ and she got the same answer each time, “Home. Gram and Gramp. This beautiful lady beside me. The porch. The wind chimes. A comfy sofa and a porch swing. Home.” Unfortunately, there was a glaring problem with Ethan’s request. He couldn’t go ‘home’, even for a visit. When the new owners were doing renovations, there was a fire and they had plowed the old farmhouse down and built another house.

One morning, Sophie arrived to find Ethan with his worker as she stepped into his room. She always visited after he had eaten breakfast and gotten dressed for the day. It was easier to let the care home workers get him up and about.

She quietly moved away and sat in the common area to wait until he was done with his morning routine.

Sitting in a chair, an idea began to percolate and within minutes, it was racing through her mind like a Japanese bullet train. This room was about the size of the living room at Gram and Gramp’s house. There was also a covered deck where residents and guests could sit and enjoy the warm weather while being shaded.

Instead of going to Ethan’s room, Sophie went to the manager’s office. She found Mr. Hanson at his desk and he welcomed her in.

With calm determination, she put forth her idea to Mr. Hanson – At her expense, could the common room be redone to look like combined 50s and 90s décor? She explained to him about her husband’s pleas to go ‘home’.

Mr. Hanson fully agreed to the project and offered his wife’s services as an interior designer who, he said, could get a great deal on things like retro furnishings and wall coverings.

Sophie’s visit with Ethan was shorter than usual that day as she was anxious to get started. His definition of ‘home’ hadn’t changed.

Transforming the common room was a whirlwind of activity.

Sophie made a collage of photos that showed Gram and Gramp’s living room and porch and shared it with people helping with the renovation.

On a popular social media site, a page was set-up to help find the things needed to complete the space. There were daily deliveries arriving by courier to the Hanson’s Special Care Centre.

Mrs. Hanson’s team put up striped pale yellow wallpaper with alternating shiny and matte columns in addition to a ceiling fixture. Though out-dated, they complimented the refurbishing.

One lady even dropped off a set of chimes.

A member of the online group had a two-person porch swing that he drove over 60 kilometers to deliver.

In the common room, flowered pillows adorned the sofa and chairs. Ikea bookcases held an eclectic collection of books. Courtney tracked down a bunch of Beanie Babies from the 90s with a few Troll Dolls to pile on a shelf as Gram had done.

Clark spent endless hours searching and finally procuring a Game Boy system with several games. He knew his dad played those games, because he had sometimes played with Clark on his own PlayStation.

An antiquated wall unit replaced the current table the TV sat on. Thankfully, the TV fit in the large opening in the unit. Wicker coffee and end tables were covered with lace tablecloths then glass tops.

A friend of Courtney’s found an online store called Retro-Candy. She ordered a supply from the 90’s and filled a basket to put on the coffee table, leaving extra stock in a supply cupboard.

An anonymous donor brought a now archaic ‘boom box’. He also delivered a selection of cassettes featuring pop artists such as Whitney Houston, Michael Jackson, Mariah Carey, Spice Girls and Backstreet Boys.

Sophie got extra time to spend with Ethan during that time. He would say things like he hadn’t heard from Gary in a while. Gary had passed away in a car accident 10 years ago. She would simply smile and say, “I’m sure you will hear from him soon.” During a few sessions with a counselor after Ethan was diagnosed, she was advised that telling him the truth would lead to increased anxiety.

Finally, the day came where everything was ready in Ethan’s ‘home’. Sophia had been praying for two solid days while she waited for a small group of volunteers to put the finishing touches on the renovation.

Sophia went to the common room before visiting Ethan and was breathless when she saw the finished result.

In Ethan’s room, she suggested a walk, so they headed out together. She saw the Home’s workers along with Mr. and Mrs. Hanson behind the nurse’s station. Other residents were kept in their rooms so Ethan could enjoy the surprise on his own.

Sophie walked him to the centre of the room. When they stopped, Sophie was about to speak but she let Ethan look around first. He turned a full circle, his eyes darting everywhere. It took him a few minutes to speak, but when he did, it was only one word, “Home.”

Her tears fell down her face. Sophie hugged Ethan then led him toward the porch swing where they both sat, swaying gently. He turned to look at her and Sophie saw what she seldom did now – recognition in his eyes. He whispered, “I love you Sophie” and her heart melted as she gave her husband a gentle hug.

Her idea had come to fruition and it had worked. Her husband was home.

The End