Let Me Call You Sweeheart

Happily Ever After

Mom and Dad had been happily married for nearly 40 years when she was stricken with Parkinson’s disease. Slowly, her brilliant mind clouded, she slipped into her own world. 

Drawing further and further away from reality and from her eternal companion.

But, at times, and for very brief moments, she was able to demonstrate that she was very much aware of him and that their relationship was still alive and well . . . somewhere.

As Mom’s condition worsened, Dad had taken her to a wonderful nursing home just a block from his apartment. Then, each evening, he would arrive to feed her supper and visit with her.

The only days he missed were the times he was away, visiting one of us kids.

At those times, he would make sure that my brother, who also lived nearby, would be able to help Mom with her supper and her evening visit.

It was wonderful to be a witness to his patient and loving care.

Mom had an unusual name. Enes.

Pronounced: E-nes.

People didn’t quite know how to say it. They would make attempts, usually ending up with something that resembled ‘Eh-nes’.

One of the workers at the home was curious about Mom’s name. “Mrs. Stringam?” she asked one day. “Do you pronounce your first name E-nes or Eh-nes?”

Mom simply stared straight ahead uncomprehendingly.

“Mrs. Stringam? Are you E-nes or Eh-nes?””

Still no response.

Finally the woman decided to try a different route to, hopefully, the right answer. “Mrs. Stringam? What does your husband call you?”

Mom turned suddenly and looked at her. “Sweetheart,” she said clearly.

Even in her condition, the bonds and memories of love remained strong.