"She didn't make it..." Winifred says. "Her heart gave out... the doctor's said there was nothing they could do.... I only just made it here in time..."
You convey meaningless platitudes down the phone, though you can't deny a part of you is relieved, no matter how guilty it makes you feel. Your mother-in-laws illness has been a strain on everything - on the family's finances, on your wife, and on your marriage. With all her trips across the country, you've barely seen your wife this year. "At least she's in a better place now."
"...yes..." your wife croaks. Her faltering tone hints that there she is hesitating to tell you something.
"Are you okay? You sound... tired."
"Um... no. Honey, I've got some more bad news... Maybe you should sit down first."
"Whatever it is, we'll work through it. I mean, how much worse can it get?"
"... it's worse. Before mother died, I- I did something so stupid... I don't know what I what I was thinking... when I arrived at the hospital, she looked so weak... so old... I felt so powerless, I had to do something. And there was an advocate from the bureau on the wards. They visit... just in case the patients want to buy a... a few extra years before the end."
A heavy weight is growing heavier in your stomach. "Predatory bastards. How much did they fleece the joint account for? It's okay, I'm not mad, we'll just have to start saving again. I mean that money was meant to see the kids through college but-"
"The account is fine. I did take it from the savings... *wheeze*... I took it from myself. Before she died, I... I gave her forty years of my life."
You can't speak. Only the 'taktak' of the chopping board disrupts the silence as your brain tries to process what you just heard.
"Forty Years? But that would make you... eighty three years old."
The sobbing voice that croaks back to you is undeniable the rasping voice of a geriatric woman. "I'm twelve years older than mother was when she passed. I can't believe it. I'm ancient. This body... they had to admit me. They've got my in a bed - oh god, it's the same bed she was lying in... I'm hooked up to all these wires and machines. They're saying they want to keep me in for monitoring."
"But... but... can't they exchange it back? They have to be able to."
"It doesn't work like that, George. She's dead. All those years, she took them with her. It's so sad. The doctor said the shock of all that youth was more than she could take - that's what finished her off."
"Unbelievable." You know know who you're more angry at - the Bureau for their predatory business practices, your wife for making such a costly mistake, or that dried up old coot for kicking the bucket at the worst possible time. Unable to find words, you say, "Well, it's like they say. Die young and leave a beautiful corpse."
Winifred takes a sharp inhale. "How can you make jokes at a time like this?!"
"Sorry, I don't know why I said that." You push your fingers through your thick, youthful hair. Sure, losing 40 years sucks. 40 years, converted into cash, is retirement money. It's pay-off-the-mortgage money. Yet you're finding it somehow hard to care about the problems of some old foggie banged up in hospital for her own stupid mistake. You shake yourself mentally - this is your wife you're talking about. Perhaps the sudden influx of youth is warping your brain, making you think like a teenager, callous and bitter to the generations above him. What was it they called them these days? 'Boomers'?
Could the fact that you're a so-called Millennial now explain how everybody's problems other than your own suddenly felt so insignificant? Or perhaps it was just hard to worry too much with a body as fine as the one you now possessed.
"... are you okay, sweetie? You sound different...?" Winifred croaks, her voice thick with grandmotherly concern.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author
