Mind Splurbs

John and Jane Daugerty

John and Jane Daugherty. She was a month older than him. Both were 16 when they met and 18 when they fell in love and got married. Now, they were 83 years old; married for 65 years. The nurse came in and told Jane she needed to change her husband's bedding. John had been immobile for quite some time now, and Jane was there every day with her husband, arriving at 7:00 a.m. and leaving at 9:00 p.m. It was routine for Jane to tell whatever nurse was on duty that she did not need them to do so; "I can take care of my husband, thank you". She would take the sheets from the nurse and proceed to change his bedding. She would tuck him in and open the shades to let the light in, once he was awake, say "good morning" and kiss him on his forehead. John had a hard time remembering words so most of their days were spent silently. Jane would sit on his left side, in the rocking chair she brought from home. With her right hand on his arm and a book in her left. She was on pg 47, paragraph four when she floated off into a day dream:

It was a Thursday morning. John had gone to the local floral shop and picked out a single white rose with a red ribbon for Jane. He placed it on the passenger seat, and headed to his yearly physical. After a half hour wait and a 60 second meet he was told he needed a neurological examination. It was a brain tumor. Surgery was immediate. They spent the following three months going in and out of hospitals, examinations, testing, group counseling meetings, and therapy sessions. Jane argued with doctors about where John should reside. She'd thought it best he be at home, the place he put so much of his heart and soul into making it what it was, with his family and his friends. The doctors told her he would be better in the company of medical professionals. Jane would lecture them about how it wouldn't make a difference; "My husband is going to die either way, we know that, so why not let him live the end of his life as he wants?". They had come to an agreement; John could stay at home as long as a nurse could go to their home once a week and examine him. A month had gone by with four visits and John began to lose track of time, forget names, stumble on flat ground, and slur his words. It had become inevitable that John were to be moved into the hospital. He had now been there for two months.

After changing her husband's sheets and sitting in her chair with her book on her lap unopened she heard a rather loud continuous beep. Johns heart rate monitor was showing that he was having a heart attack. John's body flinched slightly as his breaths became shorter and rapid. Jane contemplated calling out for help or hitting the emergency button, but then she thought of unplugging the monitor. We've fought long enough. Why suffer any longer? She sat in her chair as if suffering from paralysis. The beeping stopped, and became one drawn out tone. As John lay in his bed motionless Jane opened her book and fished a pen out of her hand bag. The sound of the heart monitor faded in her head as she began to write on the inside front cover:

At 18 when I took the hand of John Alan Daugherty I vowed to never fail him, to never look down upon him, to never doubt him, to never pressure him, to never hold him back, to never question his reasoning, to never lie to him, to never wander the world without him, to never love another more than him, to never spread his insecurities, to never cry without his shoulder, and to never live without him.

I failed him when I told him I did not want to move away from my home to be with him. I looked down upon him when he quit school. I doubted him when he returned. I pressured him into a job he did not like. I held him back from the one he wanted. I questioned him when he stopped kissing me goodnight. I lied to him when I told him I despised him. I went to England without him. I fell more in love with my selfish self. I told his insecurities to my judgemental friends. I cried in the shower.

There is one more thing i vowed to my husband. I told him I will never live without him. He is dead now, and here I am, breathing normally, the blood is flowing through my veins, not ready to stop. But i must keep my word to my husband. For he has kept his to me. He simply vowed to me; never to walk away from me, always to forgive me, and never to stop loving me. He has kept his. Regret does not live in my heart any longer.

John Alan Daugherty died of a heart attack on December 14th, 1996 at 1:08 p.m. Jane Amber Daugherty died of an overdose on December 14th, 1996 at 1:38 p.m.