Put a Little Love in Your Heart

I was walking more and more due to my depression, using hours after 10pm to avoid contact with real human beings. This night, by a parking meter, I saw a woman, maybe a little bit younger than me clearly distressed. I knew that feeling but she didn't look like an alcoholic -- she looked like a mother that lost her kids somewhere. I stopped to speak to her.

"Excuse me, are you OK?" She looked up a me -- she was frightened, very frightened!

"I'm not going to hurt you -- can I help you with anything?" She was shaking visibly but couldn't respond.

"Here, let me help you up" but as I moved toward her, she fell to the ground. She was clearly having some type of medical episode. She mentioned her young children over and over. I thought she was a few years younger than me but talking about young kids. I looked at her again and knew, this isn't normal -- maybe a stroke. So, I called 911 for an ambulance. While waiting I heard her say "Peter, I am sorry, Peter, I am sorry!" and then she passed out.

I heard the ambulance in the distance and a police officer showed up, concerned that I was standing over a passed-out woman -- what had I done! I explained to him how I came across this woman, clearly in a medical distress and told him I had called 911 for help and was hoping that the siren in the distance was the ambulance for this woman. The police officer believed me but waited until the ambulance arrived.

I heard the radio call from the ambulance -- patient is non-responsive, blood pressure at emergency levels. Suspected stroke based on lack of response. I asked where they were taking her, and they said Good Samaritan Hospital. I asked the officer where that was, and he asked if I was going there, and I said yes.

"Get in my squad car, I'll take you!"

His squad car beat the ambulance to the hospital, and I walked in with him. He pointed to the chair nearby and said to "Sit!" He seemed to know the triage staff waiting and pointed to me and said "That guy found her lying in the street. He's worried, but he's not a relative. Let him stay there -- I've watched him cry for almost 10 minutes now. He needs it, OK!

The ambulance unloaded outside the electric doors and the gurney was rushed into a treatment room. Being close to Christmas it was surprising that the ER wasn't busier. She had a full team attending her needs. The head nurse walked over to me and asked, "What is your name?"

"Robert, is she going to be alright?" I said.

"Robert, I can't give you any information about her as I understand you are not a relative. Do you know who she is or where she lives?"

"No, I just saw her in distress at the corner of 10^th and Olive and went to see if I could help. She was speaking some, but mostly incoherent. She mumbled a couple of almost nonsense words and started repeating them in a pattern. I called the ambulance when I thought it might be a stroke."

I heard the doctors come out and speak with the nurse.

"She's indigent, right? No insurance, no known family? We don't normally take cases like these so get her ready to transfer her to Cincinnati General. They'll take care of her, but they just brought in casualties from a five-car accident on I-75 and will be backed up for hours.

I went over to the doctors and was pleading with them -- "You transfer her, and she'll die. My mother had a stroke like this and survived. They said minutes counted and they had enough to get it done. I'll guarantee payment of her bills -- I'll even write you a check right now. Just take care of her, please. I don't think it's right to let her last moments on this earth to be the words of distress I heard! Please, have some mercy!"

The doctor called the administrator on duty. He said it was most unusual. He never heard of a stranger being willing to pay the medical expenses of someone without the means to pay. He asked -- "How much is he willing to deposit upfront?"

I told him, "$50,000 tonight. You can me in later in the morning and I'll bring more if needed. Please, this woman's life is worth saving."

The administrator told me back, "Sir, all lives are worth saving!"

Asshole Robert returned for a second and said, "Then save hers now -- what are you waiting for!"

The doctor got the OK and said after an MRI, she'd be off for surgery. I said I would be sitting here when the surgery was over, and he could tell me his bill too. I sat there through the night and into the early morning of the next day getting up only to use the bathroom or take a cup of coffee generously donated by the nurses.

I was almost sleeping when the ER doctor came out and said, "I know you don't I"? I looked at him and almost uttered the word -- "No" but then I took a closer look.

"Yes, but I never did get your name -- you saved my life by referring me to AA some years back. I thought you were crazy, but you were right. My drinking caused me to lose my marriage and my family, my drinking may have caused an entire company to fail, and now I'm trying to make amends because I can't find my wife and children to apologize to them. But I can sincerely say, you've saved one life of a patient that still thanks you every day."

The ER nurse came over to talk with the doctor. It turned out -- they were married. He was the doctor who saw our mystery woman in the treatment room and recognized her symptoms. He had already ordered the MRI before I had intervened with the administrator. His wife told him about my day and contribution to this woman's care.

Doctor Murphy was his name and he turned to me and said "I go back at least once a month. Are you still going to the one at First Presbyterian?"

I sadly said "No, my sponsor and best friend died 18 months ago. I've had some sad moments in my life, most self-caused, but his death hurt a lot. But it also reinforced my commitment to sobriety because I made that promise to Ralph!"

At the request of the hospital, a policeman was asked to remove me from the emergency room. When he arrived, I saw it was the same cop who gave me a ride. He saw the member of hospital security waiting near me expecting him to escort me out. He went over to the guy in security and said something to him. Then, he walked over and sat down next to me and smiled.

"I told the security guy to go get us some coffee. I'll wait here with you until the hospital administrator arrives. I'll be here to support you -- you're a good man Robert -- the world needs more of you."

I know about 100 HIPAA rules were broken during my two days of sitting and my body odor might have rivaled any of the hundreds of homeless people in the city. The amazing outcome was with the contribution of a couple of attorneys, the court allowed Patient A to be discharged into my care. "One small step for mankind, one giant leap forward by a broken man".

The problem with Patient A is that she clearly isn't an indigent woman. Her clothing didn't resemble someone living on the street, she was in good health other than the stroke and memory loss. At her discharge, I sat with her in a hospital room saying I had agreed to give her shelter while she tried to regain her memory. I told her where I lived and that I no longer worked at a real job but made money stock trading. She would be in my three-bedroom condo with her own bedroom and bath that could be locked from the inside. I even got my new friend, Officer Kelly to agree to drop by every day to make sure she was OK. She realized that she didn't have an option and agreed to accept my help.

I was warned by the doctors that her memory would be a little worse for a few days after the surgery but most of the memory lost would come back. Whatever she lost from the original event, well, that was a different issue. It would have been miserable for her except that we were now five days from Christmas, and it was snowing. She asked me if I had any Christmas music -- I said no but then realized my cable-tv had music channels and we listened for a while. Then, she started singing, so I joined her. We skipped through about 20 popular Christmas Carols, and I realized there was a lot of memories in that brain! She was going to get better.

I gave Miss A, as I was beginning to call her, some gifts for Christmas. Since we did not know where she lived, she only had the clothes on her back, so we headed to a mall and purchased some new items for her that first day. We discussed going to church for Christmas, but she was afraid she might stand out. Like the Grinch, my heart had grown that day and I was longing for connections to people. Not at work, I no longer had a place of business. Church might be that place but not this Christmas. Miss-A was still too mentally frail. But I had purchased a very pretty dress for her, and it was just the right size. She noticed something by the fireplace. I never thought I would see the day when I had a bible in my home but all those AA days at the church made me decide I needed one. Miss A picked it up and began reciting bible verses. Another victory followed by another huge one. "I remember teaching the Bible to kids at church. My kids were in my class." As I turned my head towards her to learn more, she could not recall what she just said. It was frustrating for her but rewarding to me. I knew she'd make it, just like Ralph said I would on my worst day trying to stay sober.

I had not heard anything from the hospital about further bills so two days before New Year's I called their collections group. I explained who I was and explained how I paid part of the bill when she was admitted. The head of collections called and said I was due a refund. I asked why and she said, "Have you ever heard about a Go Fund Me page on Facebook?"

I answered, "What's Facebook!"

"Oh my Mr. Gregory, you have lived a sheltered life! Facebook is a social media site -- kids have used it for years to keep track of their friends. The nurses involved with the patient spoke to other nurses about your gesture and willingness to take that woman into your home, they started one for her. That nurse is married to one of the doctors that treated her."

I heard that and it brought some joy to my broken heart. That doctor who pulled me out of the gutter was paying it forward. His wife was his catalyst and people around the world were doing the right thing.

"Not only did the "Go Fund Me" page payoff the balance owned, but it covered your down payment too. Don't worry, with the publicity now circulating, the hospital will donate a lot of this money to future indigent care -- paying it forward I guess!"

I had to wonder if it was the story or the desire of people to do good deeds around the holidays.

That wasn't all it did -- after our New Year's Eve celebration in my condo and New Year's Day bowl games, I discovered she's a University of Oregon fan. Where did that come from? Oh, and I received a call from our local ABC affiliate. They want to interview us. I said no, but Miss A disagreed and said yes - maybe someone can tell me who I am. She was right. We decided to let Miss-A heal a while longer and scheduled the interview late in January.

It was the 29^th when the interview was conducted as the reporter arrived. I had no interest in being in the limelight. I just wanted to do the right thing! I was able to be nothing more than a voice in the background as the reporter peppered Miss-A with questions. Other than what her name is and where she lived, Miss A did beautifully. As I watched her charm the reporter and demonstrate such poise when responding to questions, I realized how easy it would be to love this woman!

Day by day, I was there with her, and our friendship grew. Our friendship soon became affection, and our affection became a type of love -- a love I haven't experienced in over 12 years. Warm tender kisses became part of our daily activities. They were short kisses, but I felt the intensity of each one. Often, we would sleep together to simply enjoy the warmth of another human being. I knew that many mornings I had an erection when I woke up but would never let Miss A see the result of our cuddling.

It was early March and Miss A was regaining more and memories from her past and I felt we were on the verge of finding out her name and where she lived when I received a phone call from the local ABC station. We didn't know that the network had distributed the interview for use by any national affiliate. They said a private investigation agency in the Dallas area wanted to speak with Miss A.

They have a client that thinks Miss A is his 51-year-old wife. She's originally from Oregon but moved with him to the Midwest around 1999. They divorced in 2010 and she had gotten custody of her kids but turned to alcohol under the pressures of work and taking care of the home. Her husband regained custody in early 2012 and by 2015, she totally disappeared, and everyone lost track of her. Their divorce, like mine, was triggered by an adulterous affair. They gave me the phone number to call (214) 2XX-1234. It was a very interesting conversation.

They said that a client in Dallas hired them to locate his ex-wife, suspecting that she might still be in the Cincinnati area. Their detectives did locate an old phone number and left messages on a machine but never got a call back. Then, a few days back one of his agents saw a 'feel good story' on the morning news about a woman in Cincinnati who lost most of her memory and that a good Samaritan was sheltering and working with her to restore memory. We figured it had to be her. That's when they called the TV station, they called me, and I made the call.

It was time for me to have a discussion with my best friend, Miss-A. Only now, she has a name and its beautiful -- Rita Collins. I would have this discussion with her in the morning, but first, I called the psychologist we worked with to define my role and how to proceed with Miss-A. He was helpful. "No mass invasion of family or friends, just her husband or maybe a child to visit but not both." He advised that I needed to accept that she and I had bonded, and she would not give up that bond easily. Her future was in my hands. Oh God, this is too much pressure. Oh God, I need a drink -- but I fought it and won that skirmish.

The morning started with our usual cup of coffee -- it ended in a river of tears, but I'm pretty sure 90% of those were happy tears.

I decided to be bold and straight forward. I told Miss A I had some potentially wonderful news. I asked her if her name might be "Rita" and she immediately became concerned. The psychologist said she might be alarmed if something sounded right and scared her. He was right on target. Then I mentioned the call last night -- and that someone had seen that interview in another city and thought you might be the ex-wife of a man searching for you! He said your children are desperate to find you.

I asked if she thought she might have children and she rapidly nodded her head. Then, I asked if the name Peter meant anything to her she again nodded but this time said, "I think he is my husband!" and broke into tears. Her tears flowed for over 15 minutes and I feared she would become dehydrated. But we found her identify and the people in her life miss her greatly and want to see her. I wish I could only be that lucky in my own life.

Finally, I said that Peter wants to talk to you about rejoining his family in Texas. I tried to look away -- I felt so much pain and it was only going to get worse, but I couldn't show it. I think Rita was looking to me to say "No -- that she should stay with me" but that was the wrong answer. Her look back at me was pleading and yet I knew I couldn't.

Finally, I said "Rita, the agency will set up a call with Peter. After you two talk he can come for a visit, and we will go from there, OK?" and again she nodded. I called the agency to schedule the call for tomorrow. We would see if Peter was ready to schedule a trip and not to worry about a hotel. I had a spare bedroom that he could use and to plan no more than a day. If it went well, we would address things on the spot.

Our call with the agency was tense and emotionally charged. Through the tears on both ends, you could tell this was right. Two very wounded souls saying little with their words but communicating through their hurt. We agreed that Peter would come to Cincinnati alone five days from now. Peter would arrive mid-day on Thursday and return home on Sunday unless obstacles were encountered.

As the days moved forward, maybe it was the shock of discovery, but Rita remembered where she lived and worked. I was shocked that with all the publicity about her loss of memory, her place of business didn't put 2 + 2 together about her absence after perfect attendance for three years. How could they miss that clue that it might be her in the papers and on TV? Losing this job was a blessing to her if they thought so little about an employee.

We did go by her apartment and spoke with the landlord. He was very understanding and reasonable. A new lock had been placed on the door, but he was happy to remove it and tell me "Now that I know she was the lady in the story, tell her not to worry about the delinquent rent." I told him we would remove all her possessions within two days, and he can re-rent sooner rather than later. Rita was so excited to be reunited with her clothes. They were well worn but importantly, they were hers.

It was Wednesday afternoon and Peter would arrive tomorrow. I saw Rita going through her things and saw a picture of Peter. He was very handsome, then I saw pictures of her kids and what a pair they were. She had two -- both girls. We started a conversation and told her my story, about Joan and how we fell in love, about me falling in love with work, and then the bottle and ruined our relationship. I wasn't going to heap Joan's infidelity on Rita at this point in our time together.

That night, knowing tomorrow the world would change, we were as close as any lovers, but I could not cross that line. Rita stroked my face, thanking me for my kindness. We also talked about the memories of our spouses. She remembered the good times. I wanted to remember those but tonight, only the bad parts were front of mind.

The night was already long, and Rita bent over to kiss me goodnight. We did that almost every night over the past four months. Tonight, it was different. It scared me -- I couldn't remember a kiss this tender and started crying and had trouble breathing. I told Rita that she meant more to me right now than anyone in my past life. But I knew it was like a mother cared for her child and not the love of a husband and wife. She turned back to me and said "You've protected and nurtured me through a dismal period of my life. Tonight, is the happiest day of my life, including the birth of my children, as happy as I'd been on my wedding day in 1993. June 17, 1993 -- 28 years ago.

I was still crying and wondered what I just heard. "Did you say June 17, 1993, was your wedding day?"

"Yes -- even after my divorce, I treated June 17 like a holy day in the Christian faith. We swore to love each other until death. I know I failed but I'd give my organs away for another chance!"

"Rita, the date of your wedding was the date I got married too! I guess it's more than a coincidence that we crossed paths. Between Karma and Kismet, we will always have our connection."

Peter arrived a little late -- it was almost 3:00pm when he arrived and knocked on the door. I let Rita answer and any questions I had were answered by the reception. They wouldn't need me today. I introduced myself to Peter, asked if they needed anything and then said "I see you two know each other. Here's my cell phone number. Call me if you want me to bring back takeout." For a moment, I wondered if this was a mistake -- they've been apart for years. Could I trust him? Was he good enough for my darling Rita? I had to stop thinking like this.