Text: Old Man Ted

from George Koulakis, 10.03.09

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Text

In a word, he was mad. Something snapped in his mind, and everything old man Ted once knew as normal had changed forever. What drives a man to the point of madness, where he no longer speaks to loved ones, and rejects all friends? What tragic event lands a man into a permanent life of mental illness, at the age of 36.

 

Ted had a beautiful wife from what I’m told, but in the 2 years my mother cared for him as a weekly volunteer in the aged care facility he called home, she never saw his wife or family visit. Mum knew only what the other staff told her about him, he’d been a happy family man, who’d lost a child in terrible circumstances, a single event 30 years ago that left him scarred for life.

 

Ted came to the facility late 1999 from a Mental Health Ward in Darwin. Ted never said a word, he quietly slipped into full time care following the program and keeping to himself. He could be found most days sitting in the garden, or resting on the couch in doors

 

Mum told me one afternoon, the local priest arrived, asking if Ted was able to receive bad news. Teds wife had passed away, and his family wanted Ted to be notified.

 

Both the Priest and mum walked into the garden where Ted was and sat either side of him. The Priest passed on the sad news to Ted. The old man smiled softly saying “She’ll be with him now”.

 

There was silence, and soon the Priest left to visit other patients.

Ted didn’t want anything to help him with his sad news. No cups of tea, no biscuits, nothing. He just sat as always left alone with his inner thoughts.

 

My mother told me the following events.

That afternoon while attending to my duties, I notice the patients call button activated from Ted’s room. The old man never called staff for anything, so this was very much a first.

 

In his room Ted lay in bed, waiting for a carer to come in. He gave me a sad smile as I opened the door and entered.

 

 “Two smiles in one day Ted, be careful, you’ll get people talking about us!” Mum said as she turned off the call light.

 

“What’s up old man?” she said taking a seat.

 

 “ My son would have been 40 if he was alive. He died you know..”

 

“Yeah I know” Mum said rubbing his arm to comfort him.

Ted then added “My wife died too… Today.”

 

“Yes. I heard the bad news, I’m sorry about her passing, I was told she was a wonderful lady”.

 

“She’s with my son you know”…

 

Mum smiled and nodded her head.

 

Then old man Ted closed his eyes and turned away… He began to cry, and let some of his grief lift off him. But his breaths became faster and faster, and he began to struggle with a mixture of emotions, all hitting him at once.

 

Letting him grieve for his wife, Mum did nothing but sit with him as he cried. Time passed as Ted grieved and cried, often letting out a burst of air from his lungs, and then he’d hold his breath again. My mother watched him, and tried to understand why he was crying this way… He’d hold his breath for as long as his old lungs could, and then release the air in huff.

 

“Ted, that’s enough now, I’m going to have to get you something to settle you down if you don’t relax.” mum said…

 

It took a short time, but he soon relaxed… and appeared to be himself again. Just as Mum prepared to leave he said “My son would have been about 40 if he was alive”.

 

Mum smiled…

“ He died you know”.

“Yes.. I’m sorry about your loss.”

 

“ I killed him.. I killed my boy.. I just held him down and killed him”.

My mother suddenly snapped to attention and was suddenly focused “ How did you kill him Ted?” she asked

 

“ We went fishing him and I, took the boat, and all. He was just a boy, and loved fishing. We went out off the shore, not too far, but out where the good fish are. We saw a sand bank out in the open water and decided to park the boat on it, and fish from the bar that was there on the low tide. Got to about 7pm I guess, and the tide had come in. We were just packing up when we noticed the boat had gone. Drifted off in the darkness I guess.

We looked for other boats to help us, but nothing. I took the boy placing him on my back, and told him to hold me tight, and I’d swim back. Wasn’t far really. Lights on land always look closer at night from the water.

 

I’m a strong swimmer I am. I took the boy on my shoulders and began to swim for the lights. The tide had other plans though. It took us back, further away from the lights. I swam and swam, but I get tired you know. Hours later, and the boy was asleep on my back. My legs had cramped up and bent, my heels touching my bum. I couldn’t kick no more, and my arms burnt from swimming. But the worse pain was inside me old ticker. I knew I had to leave the boy. I knew I had to leave him. Hours I guess. Hours I must have thought about it. I can’t push him off me into the darkness of the water, and listen to him struggle trying to swim when he can’t. Then I just did it. I just did it. I held him down. I held him down. Wasn’t sure if he was still alive, because he held me so tight even after he stopped struggling. Now and then I’d feel something touch my leg, and I thought it was him. Soon my leg kept getting hit, and heard noise. It was waves crashing on land. I’d been washed back in on the turn of the tide miles up from the beach with the lights.”

 

He went quiet, and was clearly exhausted from reliving this memory.

 

In the early months of 2001 during the time locals call “The month of the winds “ Ted passed away in the aged care facility he called home.  As quietly as Ted slipped into full time care, he left.

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Tags

• Writing
• Philosophy
• Aged Care
• Mental Health
• we are what we share

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