While Claire is dropping her kids off at summer camp, she gets a devastating phone call. Her 67-year-old mother, an Alzheimer’s patient, is missing. After three days of looking for Edith, police officers bring her home, and only then does the old woman reveal a horrible truth about Claire’s husband. Three days. That’s how long…
While Claire is dropping her kids off at summer camp, she gets a devastating phone call. Her 67-year-old mother, an Alzheimer’s patient, is missing. After three days of looking for Edith, police officers bring her home, and only then does the old woman reveal a horrible truth about Claire’s husband.
Three days.
That’s how long my mother had been missing.
Three days of frantic phone calls, sleepless nights, and endless dread. My mom, who is 67 and has Alzheimer’s, had somehow wandered out of the house in the dead of the night while I was away, taking the kids to their summer camp.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
The camp was four hours away, and Nate, my husband, couldn’t leave work. So, we decided that I would take the kids, drop them off, spend a night at a motel, and then drive back the next day.
I had left Mom in Nate’s care, trusting him to watch her while I was gone.
But that trust was shattered the second I got the call.
It was Nate who called me to tell me that Mom was missing.
“She’s gone, Claire!” he said frantically on the phone. “Edith! Your mom… I don’t know how it happened or when. I just woke up, and she wasn’t there.”
Those words knocked the wind out of me. I sat at the edge of the motel bed, feeling like I couldn’t breathe. At least my kids were safely away. I could drive home as fast as anything.
A shocked man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
A shocked man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I threw my things into my overnight bag, gulped down my coffee, and ran. I needed to get home. I thought my mother was safe. Nate had opted to work from home just so that he could be there, ready and available if needed.
I thought she’d been safe.
I was wrong.
For three agonizing days, we searched everywhere. The police were involved, and hundreds of questions were asked and answered. Flyers were posted and a hotline was created.
An open suitcase | Source: Midjourney
An open suitcase | Source: Midjourney
But it was as if she had vanished into thin air. Just like that.
The guilt ate me alive. I should have been there. I should have stayed home. Or I should have taken my mother with me. It would have meant more stops along the way, but she would have been with me.
I would have kept her safe.
But how could I have known? Alzheimer’s was a slow thief, robbing her of herself in pieces. I left her at home because her routine was one of the few things that kept her stable.
A close up of a worried woman | Source: Midjourney
A close up of a worried woman | Source: Midjourney
But she’d never wandered off like this before.
When the police pulled up to our house on the fourth morning, my heart leapt to my throat. I rushed to the window, seeing them guide my mother out of the backseat.
Relief washed over me, but when I glanced at Nate, his reaction wasn’t what I expected at all.
Instead of looking relieved or glad, he looked… nervous.
The unease settled in my stomach like a rock. But I pushed it down, chalking up Nate’s behavior to guilt as well. He was probably stewing in his own guilt. He was supposed to be watching over Mom, but she had escaped on his watch.
“I’ll deal with him later,” I muttered.
Nate needed to know that as terrified as I had been, I didn’t blame him. My mom was losing hold of her mind, and this was an accident.
Right?
I threw the door open just as the officers helped my mother up the steps. She looked disheveled, her clothes rumpled and her hair wild. Tears stung my eyes as I hugged her, the smell of the outdoors and three days of unwashed fear clinging to her.
“Claire-bear,” she said, calling me by the name she used my entire childhood. “Where have you been, baby? I was waiting all alone for you!”
A disheveled old woman | Source: Midjourney
A disheveled old woman | Source: Midjourney
“Mom, where did you go?” I whispered, holding her tight.
But she barely acknowledged my words. Instead, she was staring over my shoulder, her eyes fixed on Nate.
“Mom?” I said, stepping back. “Talk to me?”
“Three days ago,” she started to say. “I saw him. I saw Nate in your bedroom with a woman.”
“What?” I whispered again.
“I heard voices upstairs,” she said. “But I forgot that you and the kids were gone. So, I thought that it was the kids playing. I just wanted to see what they were doing.”
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
Nate shifted uncomfortably.
“Claire, she’s confused. You know how your mom is. She’s probably remembering something from years ago…”
But Mom shook her head, her eyes wide and wild.
“No! I saw you! And I asked you to explain yourself. You tried to make me feel like I was stupid, Nathan! And you said that the woman was a homeless person who you were helping out for the night. Which homeless person wears red-bottomed shoes? And you told me to get out!”
“Mom, what do you mean he told you to get out?” I asked.
“I didn’t know where I was!” she cried, tears now spilling down her face. “He told me that I didn’t live there. That I lived with you and the kids, and this wasn’t your home! He said I had to leave. I thought he was right… I was terrified.”
The living room was silent, save for Mom’s ragged breathing.
A crying older woman | Source: Midjourney
A crying older woman | Source: Midjourney
The officers shifted, awkward and unsure, and then one of them cleared his throat.
“Ma’am, do you remember where you went after that?” he asked.
She shook her head, the light from her eyes dulling a bit. Her moment of lucidity was leaving slowly.
“I walked away. I just opened the door and walked away…”
An older woman walking out of a front door | Source: Midjourney
An older woman walking out of a front door | Source: Midjourney
I felt dizzy, my pulse pounding in my ears. I turned to Nate, my mouth dry.
“Nate, tell me she’s not… tell me that this didn’t happen!”
He raised his hands.
