So Close, Yet So Far Away

Don and Charlotte are sleeping in an oversized hospital bed. The bed is in the middle of an incredibly still ocean with no waves and no land in sight. The sky is full of stars. Husband and wife are spooning peacefully. The stars start to go out in the sky, like the lights in your house being cut out one by one. A crack forms at the top of headboard. It isn’t violent or loud, but it weaves its way down the middle of the bed between the couple until it reaches the bottom. The two halves separate and drift away from each other. Charlotte wakes with a start and turns to see Don floating away from her. “No Don. Don’t do that. Come back here,” She calls. “It’s me Charlotte. It’s your wife, sweetheart.” Don wakes, blinking and confused like a child in an unfamiliar place. He doesn’t speak but just sits silently staring back at her. Charlotte continues to call to him as his side of the bed drifts away. She can barely see Don because almost all the stars have gone out, save one or two. She continues to call him back, nevertheless. It’s getting darker and darker and he’s getting farther and farther away. Charlotte and Don Stanek have been married 53 years. A decade ago, Don was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. Over the last year, the disease has left him incapable of caring for himself. Charlotte has remained her husband’s primary caregiver as she's watched her him slowly fade from her. Faced with the increased difficulty of caring for Don, Charlotte must consider moving him into an assisted facility. This is a story about holding on.