But also the other side of it all was strong on his mind. Mercy for the one you love. He had to decide now if it really was mercy or murder. But then who is to say when someone’s life is no longer worth living? Was it really his choice to decide her future or end her life now? If she were in hospital and considered brain dead, then perhaps they would turn off her life support, but she surely wasn’t that way at all at the present time. She was not uncomfortable, she was not alone, nor was she stressed. Not being of sound mind, did she really mean what she had said about not letting her suffer? Ivan was right about that, she wasn’t really suffering. If she’d had a serious stroke several years earlier and was partially paralyzed and unable to speak well, would he have killed her then? No, he wouldn’t have. If she was a paraplegic confined to a wheel chair, he wouldn’t take her life. It all came down to her mental state and whether or not she enjoyed life. Was it really her who was suffering? Or was he the one who was suffering, watching her slip away from him? He thought of Ann and Molly. Perhaps his motivation was more for his sake than hers. He thought now was the time to have a real discussion about it, to see what she really thought, or even if she really did care or not. It was hard to know what she really thought or felt about certain things these days. He was confused; they needed to talk it through.
The next day shortly after breakfast Elsie went into the sitting room and got a magazine to read, but she didn’t read it, she just put it on her lap and sat quietly. She wanted to just sit and relax. She no longer thought about doing anything, not even reading or watching television. She had nothing to stimulate her now. After a while of sitting, she started to rearrange her magazines and saw one that took her fancy, so she lay on the couch to read it. There was a part of her that was lonely, Frank didn’t treat her like he used to, and not many people came to visit now.
As Elsie lay reading her magazine, Frank approached her and gave her a loving pat on the head, but she didn’t like that. It made her feel like a sick little girl. She thought it was condescending of him to do so. She was increasingly becoming annoyed with his attitude toward her; she didn’t feel sick at all.
“It’s time we had a talk concerning your future; I need to know how you feel about the situation now. You have mentioned to me several times about not letting you suffer. Do you really mean that? And are you suffering?”
She let out a sigh and looked at him lovingly, “I don’t know dear, I don’t really care. If you think it would be best to finish up here, then I trust your opinion and know you will make the right decision. So, you just do what you think is best for both of us, I won’t argue or put up a fight. Just do it!” She wasn’t really aware of what he was actually asking her, she thought he was talking about leaving their home and going to live in the retirement village. She quickly went back to flicking through the pages of a fashion magazine. She would look at all the photos of the clothes and the models wearing them and then start from the front again, re-looking at them. She wished she had been as good looking as them when she was their age.
That night as Elsie lay in bed beside him happily drifting off to sleep, Frank decided what he must do. He took a long, loving look at his faithful, beloved wife, then got up and went to the cupboard where he had stored the vials of morphine and the syringe. He removed them and took them into the bathroom where he placed them next to the medicine cabinet, ready for his next move. He then went back to the bedroom and gave Elsie another long, loving look while she lay sleeping; he leaned over and gave her an affectionate kiss on her cheek. As she was sound asleep now, she had no idea he had just done that and he hoped she was having a happy dream, perhaps about the afterlife. When he returned to the bathroom, he was adamant about what he was to do next. There was enough morphine to end her suffering, and also end his. They could maybe cross over together, side-by-side, or not, maybe it would be as individuals.
He looked long and hard at the stash, then went and sat in the living room, with no lights on, he just sat in the darkness, engrossed in his inner battle about his next move. He was sure he knew what he must do now, but he once again ran through all the positive and negative options that were now placed before him. Mercy or murder, afterlife or nothing after death, the law wasn’t an issue if he was also dead, he need not fear the law. His next move would be serious, he was about to end this internal debate he was having with himself. He would do what he had intended to do, he got up and went back to finish the job.
He filled the large syringe with both vials of morphine; he held it up and looked closely at it. In his hand was the way to death, it would only take a few minutes to end it all. He knew precisely what he was going to do with it. He opened the bathroom window and took a look outside while holding the syringe. Outside was life. He noticed the bright moon shinning on their messy garden, but it was a garden that was fixable. Then he pointed the needle outside, and squirted the liquid death as far away from the house as he could. Then he placed the needle up inside the faucet and snapped it.
His decision was based on the fact that we are only alive for a short time; there is lots of time to be dead, we are dead forever. So he decided if we are to be dead forever it would be best to hang on to life for as long as we can. He knew that once he was gone there was no turning back; he couldn’t change his mind once he exited this life. He had decided it was better to make the most of the time they had left. He knew that death would inevitably come to both of them, so why force it, if it wasn’t here yet, it would arrive in its own time in its own way. And if indeed there was a God whom he would have to stand before to give account of his actions, and he knew the commandments, then he wouldn’t be able to justify taking her life, or his own. And if there was no God, then it didn’t matter either way. He had decided that if Elsie was suffering, then being faithful to her meant making her life easier, not ending it. So if indeed Elsie was suffering, then he would suffer with her until she passed away naturally. He was aware though, that she wasn’t overly suffering. He now knew that those that had suggested that to him were right about that. He would take her to the retirement village, and then when necessary she could go into permanent care. He had decided it was not his right to end her life, she wasn’t very well, but she wasn’t in agony or facing a disaster. Some days she didn’t have any problems at all. He had said, “Until death do us part,” to her on their wedding day, he knew that didn’t mean it was his call when that would be. He got back into bed beside her and rolled over to cuddle up and gave her another kiss on her cheek. He looked at her lovely and muttered sweetly, ‘goodnight Elsie, I’ll see you tomorrow. I really will.”
EPILOGUE
One month after Frank had squirted away the morphine and broken the needle, he and Elsie moved to the retirement village. They just leased a villa until they had sold their house. It sold quickly as it was in good condition, and not too many houses had the same character theirs had. They then bought their own villa. They had a large amount of excess money, so Frank gave what he didn’t need to various social charities. They only kept enough to see them through until the end of their days. Life for them in the retirement home was pleasant as they had nothing to worry about. There was no gardening that needed to be done and their villa was well-maintained. Frank didn’t need to bother fixing anything, nothing needed fixing. It was a good move for them as Elsie lived for another eight years. Frank was pleased he hadn’t taken their lives. Life for them at the village was peaceful and stress-free. Four years after moving there, Elsie was moved to the rest home adjoining the village. Because Frank lived at the same location, they were still in touch every day. Ivan was a regular visitor, but Dave and Julie never bothered to go and visit them. They had no visitors at all except for Ivan. For the remainder of his life, Frank was pleased he had hung on to life and not brought death on either of them sooner than it was due.
Frank lived until he was eighty-nine. He simply went to bed one night, but never got up again. He died peacefully in his sleep without any pain or suffering. It was as if h
e had been blessed, just like Ivan had said he would be, if he did what was best for them both.
Goodnight, Elsie Page 16