Eva Pt. 20

We thanked the doctor and went back to see Eva. My wife, their mother and mother-in-law. Loved by us all. She was very quiet, even when she saw us, though she did say hello like she was in a haze.

"Hi Angel. How's my love?" I kissed her head and then her lips.

"Jon. I'm ok. Not scared now. I'm too sleepy." She smiled at me and for a minute I saw my wife, the woman I was still madly in love with. I couldn't hold her hand due to the burns but I held her wrist instead. Connor and Maria talked to her briefly, then we had to leave to let her rest while they found a room for her.

It was late August and the night was sticky. You could see the small gnats swarming around the sodium lights and in that moment my heart broke. I knew what she was suffering from was no stroke. Dementia. The doctor used that term, and I knew he was right. I had seen the changes in Eva for months, slowly taking away the woman I loved more than anything in the world. I cried as if she was gone.

Maria, Nancy and Conner hugged me and they cried as well. They had seen the changes coming over their mother for months like I had. They knew the news would be bad. No, it would be devastating.

They came back to the house with me. Maria had cleaned up the kitchen so it was spotless. My Little Hero. We all sat and talked but we made no plans until we were sure what we were dealing with.

Cammy and Kyle got to us around noon and met us at the hospital. There weren't the usual hugs and kisses; these were sad and scared. Cammy made sure I knew if I needed any legal work done, either she would do it for us or she'd get someone locally for me. I could always count on her and her level head. Especially in bad times.

The next day Rachel arrived without Tony and Sam; he was watching her at home. The hospital is no place for a 2 year old child. Then Vince and Jamaal came to complete the group (aside from Oliver and Anna, who were both at school and would come if we needed them). Walt and Will were coming at the end of the week, in two days. They had things at work they had to deal with.

Eva slept a lot. She was kept on a mild sedative because she got very agitated when they took her off the drugs. We sat with her in shifts but there wasn't much to say.

The third morning, two doctors on the neurology team came to see us, Dana Morrison and Edward Kantor. They sat down with the whole family that was there (except Eva, who would be told a little later). Morrison spoke first. She was the senior doctor and the leader of her team. "Mr. Grossman and family, we know what is wrong with your wife and mother. It wasn't a stroke, her brain shows no signs of that kind of lesion. The other tests we did shows she has Alzheimer's Related Dementia." We all gasped and grabbed the hands of the nearest family member; for me, it was Connor and Maria. "We know this sounds like the worst news possible, and we won't lie. It's very serious. Her long term prospects are not good, perhaps 3 years. There are new drugs we can prescribe for her which will improve her memory and cognition in the short term. But honestly, unless there is some sort of therapeutic miracle, after a short period where she'll feel better, her mind is going to slip pretty rapidly. Her disease is a rare, fast moving form. Now, you can bring her home today and I would suggest never leaving her alone. Sometimes the patients can slip out of the house and go missing for hours. You might want to hire aides round the clock for the immediate future. But within a year, maybe less, you're going to need to look into a nursing facility for your wife. We're sorry to give you this terrible news. We wish it was better. In the meantime, surround her as much as possible with people she knows and loves, the music she knows and so on. She told us she loves music. Play her favorite songs and albums. Anything familiar."

They offered to answer our questions, but I think we were all in too much shock to ask more than a couple of questions. I then met with a social worker who gave me the names of a few agencies that provided aides and she also got the paperwork going for Medicare and our private insurance to pay much of the bills that were going to pour in. That didn't worry me; I could pay whatever I had to. I had too many other things to worry about.

Cammy helped me as our kids got Eva ready to go home. The doctors gave me a couple of prescriptions for her, the new med to improve her memory and cognition as well as an anti-depressant. Then we went to her room to break the news to Eva. She took it remarkably well. Maybe it was the sedative still in her system, but I believe she already knew what was happening to her and why. She was such a smart woman, always, all her life. That's probably why she avoided seeing a doctor; who wants to hear that diagnosis?

We left the hospital, a dejected group. No one cried in front of Eva, and she didn't cry either. Not until we got home. Cammy and our kids worked on getting something together for dinner while Eva and I had some time alone in our bedroom. Then she fell into my arms as we sat on the side of the bed and she just fell apart while I cradled her shaking body.

But instead of what I expected, a series of exclamations about how unfair this was, Eva kept saying "I'm so sorry, Bear. So sorry" over and over. Finally, when she settled down, I got to speak.

"What are you talking about, Angel? What are you sorry for? You didn't do anything to cause this."

"I'm sorry because I'm going to be leaving you alone. And soon. I'm going to be leaving my love, the only man I've ever loved, the only man I've ever wanted...." She started crying deep, mournful tears.

"You're the only woman I've ever loved. And I'm not giving you up without a fight. I'm going to take the best care of you that I can. And despite what the doctor said, I'm not putting you in a nursing home. No way. I'll hire whomever we need to help care for you. You're staying her in your home. With me." I started crying with her and we rocked each other side to side as we sobbed.

We stayed like that for a long time. The shadows grew longer through the blinds and our family let us alone for as long as they could. We both appreciated the privacy. We'd have time to talk with all of them. We needed this time to ourselves. Just the two of us. I even sang to her, our song, of course. Tupelo Honey.

Eventually Rachel came up and knocked on our door. "Hey, Mom and Dad? We have dinner ready. Do you want to join us? Please?"

My Little Angel. We had to start considering how all this was affecting our children. They were hurting too, not to mention our grandchildren, Cammy and her family. And we still had to call her brothers and tell them what was happening to their sister. They'd be in North Carolina Friday night.

We tried to talk casually, as if we hadn't gotten the most awful news imaginable. But we couldn't ignore what we knew. Cammy cried first and then we were all shedding tears, some of us harder than others. Dinner was mostly uneaten.

That night in bed, Eva and I tried to talk, but it wasn't easy. Between our grief and her mixed thoughts and emotions, the best we could do is hold each other affectionately. We weren't ready to discuss the big decisions.

For the next two weeks, into early September, Eva was not doing well. She was confused and at a loss for words, losing her train of thought easily. Then she had a rapid improvement as the new meds started taking effect. It was like a miracle took place. We played some tennis, went out with friends for dinner (no alcohol for her). Life felt good again.

We did have to make some decisions while she was lucid. The doctors told us the improvement might last as long as six months or as short as two. We were determined to enjoy every good minute we had. But we signed various papers giving me Power of Attorney over her affairs. We hired one of the services to provide aides when we needed it. A hundred other things.

Our private insurance refused to cover things like the Alzheimer's medication, which was expensive, over four thousand a month. We could afford it, but that wasn't the point. I actually enjoyed fighting with them over their decision. It felt like I was doing what I could to fight for my wife. And I won; they covered the amount that Medicare didn't cover.

In early October, Cammy and Kyle insisted we come visit for a week. It seemed like a long time to be away under the circumstances, but they were insistent, and besides, who knew how much longer we'd be able to travel? A big trip was out of the question, but this was to familiar surroundings with very familiar people.

We spent the first few days visiting old favorite places, including good Chinese food (still Cammy's favorite), seeing Larry and Patty and their spouses, separately. Then on Wednesday, Cammy said they had a surprise for us. They told us to dress nicely, as nice as we could. Eva was having a good week, and we looked forward to whatever my sister and her husband had in mind.

They drove west on Lincoln Highway, towards Bryn Mawr and Vanderbilt and Valley Forge...and Wayne. We approached the school and Eva and I grasped hands. We hadn't been back there in almost ten years, since we were let go. Then Kyle pulled into the right lane, the turning lane to enter the school grounds.

I said, not all that happy, "Kyle, what the hell are you doing?"

He kept turning and Cammy turned around from her front seat with a big smile. "This is your surprise. Look ahead." We saw the football field had the stage that we used for graduations set up and a hell of a lot of seats set up into the length of the field, filled with adults of various ages.

"Cammy, what the hell is going on?" I was curious, annoyed...I don't know. Eva looked a little worried but she was smiling, too.

"It's Eva and Jon Grossman Appreciation Day! What they should have done when you would have retired. They're going to unveil your portraits, to be hung afterwards along the hall where the other portraits are."

Eva and I hadn't even thought about this since we left. We of course knew about the other portraits but we tried not to think about it over the years. We of course kept track of the goings on after we left. The Horvaths were not invited back after their five years; enrollment had taken a huge hit during their tenure and they were unpopular among the students and parents, except for a small group of deeply Conservative types. Maitland and his group were voted out, more traditional members were voted to the Trustees, and they hired new principals that were more like me and Eva were. Things were better now, thankfully.

Kyle said as he parked the car "They had to hold a raffle for tickets to this. You wouldn't believe how many of your former students wanted to come. They could have filled those seats four times over, at least. So many people love you both."

Eva looked nervous as he shut the engine. "Jon, I don't know if I can do this. I'm terrified of speaking. What if I lose my concentration? I'll look like an addled old woman." I held her a moment, then gave Cammy a dirty look.

"You should have warned us, Cammy. I don't know if this is a good idea."

"They wanted to surprise you, Jon. You don't have to speak if you don't want to; they know Eva has been sick. But they wanted to honor both of you and I thought it had to be now, while you're doing better, Eva. I know, I probably should have asked. But they wanted to make this very special for you both."

We looked at each other. "We're here, Angel. We should let them do this. It's for our former students as much as it's for us. I can speak for both of us." I hugged her and she nodded in agreement.

When we got out, Burt Voigt greeted us, even though he was retired from sitting on the Board. We were introduced to the new members, almost all of whom were students during our tenure at various times. We were led to the stage and I helped Eva up the steps. We were greeted with thunderous applause. We met the current principals, a nice young couple, James and Krista Silver. They led the ceremony, Burt spoke a few minutes, a couple of our former students spoke to represent all the students over the years. Then Jackie Allen, now Jackie Kent, spoke. She had been 16 when she was abused by that teacher and now she was in her early 50s. She spoke movingly about how we got her through a terrible time in her life. She brought us both to tears, and we weren't the only ones. Jackie spoke about her family, how happy she was, and how Eva and I were largely responsible for her success as an adult. That brought a standing ovation as many of our former students cheered.

Then Burt took over again and unveiled our portrait, a nicely done painting of Eva sitting at her old desk while I stood behind her with my hands on her shoulders and one of her hands covering mine. We both cried as the applause broke out again and Burt asked if we wanted to say something. "Jon, I can't" Eva said softly through her tears, and I understood. I held her hand and kissed her before going up to the microphone.

"This was an unexpected surprise. When my sister Camilla told us as we turned into the school grounds earlier, I was almost angry with her. I guess you all know Mrs. Grossman and I didn't leave here under the optimal circumstances. But we've always thought of this place as a home, and all of you, students and staff, as our 'other family'. We loved our time here, almost every minute. Eva can't speak to you; I know you know why. And this warm, loving reception tells us that we can't be upset with Cammy, as we call her. We can't be upset about anything to do with Wayne School. We had a wonderful time here, we raised our family here. The memories we have... we'll cherish them for as long as we can. And we'll cherish each and every one of you. Thank you. This has been an amazing experience, today as well as our years here. Love to you all." I couldn't go any further, I was a mess by that point. Eva came to me and kissed me in front of everyone, an incredibly loving kiss. I loved and adored her with all my heart.

After a brief luncheon (in the cafeteria lol, catered of course), we toured the school one last time. Eva didn't say much; she was worried about how she might come across. Then we watched as our portrait was hung up next to the dozen or so others. Right next to Lenny Moskowitz. We owed his soul a huge debt of gratitude. If it hadn't been for his recommendation, we never would have come to Wayne Upper Day School.

Back and Cammy and Kyle's, we had a Zoom call with our children, all of whom knew about the celebration and who all signed off. They all thought it was good for us, especially for Eva, and she was happier that night than I'd seen her for a long time. Then in bed later, Eva rolled sideways to me and kissed me. Staring into my eyes, she said "This has been such a great day. Do you want to make it perfect, Bear? Do what we haven't done for a while now?" She was clearly talking about sex. I hadn't been able to touch her that way since before her diagnosis. Honestly, I'd been afraid to.

"Eva, Angel. I don't know if I can. I'm scared, kind of."

"You think I'm not? I know you're frightened of...I guess of hurting me somehow. But I'm not physically weak. And I've been feeling good lately. And tonight I feel great. I want to be loved by my husband and I want to love you back. Who knows how much time we'll have, Jon? I want to share our love as long as we still can. Don't make me beg." Her eyes were pleading with me.

"What if I like it when you beg?" I smiled and put my book down before shutting off the bedside lamp.

"If you really want me to..."

"No. I don't want you to ever beg for my love. Never again." We embraced and we kissed over and over. We touched each other as we hadn't for months and soon we were both very excited and Eva welcomed me inside her. We moved slowly, savoring each other like it might be the last time. For all we knew it might have been. Each stroke, each shift of our bodies was special. And every kiss was amazing. When we came, we cried, not sad tears, but very joyful tears. However much time we had, we were going to cherish each moment. Each and every one.

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The next couple of months were great. Eva was feeling good almost every day. Neighbors came to visit, we went out to dinners alone or with friends. Our kids came to visit in a kind of rotation. Of course we saw Connor and Maria more often since they both lived nearby. Vince and Jamaal came for Thanksgiving, and everyone traveled to Cammy's for Chanukah/Christmas, which fell out at the same time that year. It was a good time and Eva and I loved being around our family. We even toyed with the idea that maybe the medications would keep working indefinitely.

New Years was quiet at home. Maria stayed with us with her fiance Max; they'd gotten engaged just before she went up to Philly with us for Chanukah. She was going to convert to Judaism; her years with us gave her a love for the culture as well as the religion. She was a believer in a way Eva and I never were. They didn't have a date yet.

That night, after we went to bed a little after midnight, Eva and I were making love. We'd gotten pretty regular about it, a few times a week. We were enjoying life in every way we could.

We were moving together, she was on top of me, shifting around to bring us both lovely pleasure. Then, suddenly, she got this blank look on her face like I hadn't seen since the Fall. I got scared, but not nearly like Eva did. She screamed "Who are you! Where's my Bear? Jon, JON!! HELP ME, someone's in my bed!" She didn't even recognize me. I immediately rolled her off me gently and tried to comfort her.

"Eva, Angel, it's me, Jon. Your Bear. Eva, my love it's me!" She was crying, almost hysterical. She was back, but scared half to death. She clung to me while she bawled.

Maria was pounding on our door. "Mom, are you all right? Can I come in?"

I cried out "No! Don't come in, Maria! Give me two minutes." I turned on the light, my wife still crying with fear. I got our bathrobes and helped her on with hers, then I put on my own before telling Maria to come in. She burst into the room with Max right behind her. She hugged her mother who was still deeply upset.

Max asked me what happened and I told him, as discreetly as I could. He shuddered at the thought. Eva thought for a minute she was being attacked by a stranger. She didn't recognize me, her husband of over 50 years, in the middle of our lovemaking. That would turn out to be the last night we ever did make love.

She was shaken up all the next day, then the day before my birthday we called the doctor and they got us into the office as an emergency. Eva had a few small episodes during the time between when she had that terrible scare and when we went to the doctor on the 3rd. She did some tests, asked Eva some questions and her diagnosis was what we all feared: the meds were no longer working and Eva would start to rapidly decline. Things had gone well for so long we ended up deceiving ourselves that somehow she would keep doing well. Dr. Morrison was sympathetic; she'd seen this before. It was the cruel side of remission, the false hope.

We drove home in distressed silence and as soon as we got there, I called the agency to arrange for aides to come around the clock. I wanted someone there all the time in case I couldn't keep an eye on her.

Eva didn't argue; she didn't say much of anything. She was too depressed, knowing it was a matter of time before she lost herself and, to her thinking, everyone that mattered to her. Connor came over after work and then Maria did as well (She owned two gas stations/repair shops then and was thinking about buying a third.) Connor wanted to take time off from work, take the upcoming semester to be around his mother as much as possible but I refused. Eva and I had talked about that possibility and she had let me know she wanted our kids to live their lives, kind of how my mother had reacted a long time ago. Connor wasn't happy about it, but then his mother let him know she was adament about it. We could afford to take care of her and we would do just that.