His chest began to heave, and he felt that at any moment he would be unable to contain an outburst of heavy sobbing. Henry walked away from the grave site as the coffin was lowered. No one followed him, not even Betty, who stood at the side of the grave, their two children on either side of her.

He did not go far, and he turned his back on the mourners. They probably all think I’m crying because she’s dead, but it’s not that. I can’t stand the guilt. Momma, will you ever forgive me? And Ruth probably pities me, or hates me. It was an awful thing I did!

He recalled the scene that had haunted his life the last three years. Except for his mother, they were all in the living room. Henry was seated, head down, wracked with shame for what was being said.

“You can’t leave her with us. You know your brother; he’s a worrier and gets depressed,” Betty shouted angrily at Ruth. “When he’s that way, I have to take care of him and the children, just everything. Besides, she’s your mother. She’s your responsibility. What kind of daughter are you?”

Aaron rose from his chair. “Ruth,” he said, “please tell your sister-in-law that we will take your mother with us when we leave for home tomorrow. If Betty finds it too hard for Mother to stay here another night, we’ll wake her up, pack her things, and take her to the hotel with us.”

“Stop it,” Henry cried out and turned to his sister. “Ruth, you understand, don’t you? Mom needs a lot of help, and I can’t do what she needs. You can’t expect Betty to be like a daughter…” His voice trailed off in a whining appeal.

Henry remembered his mother’s reaction when he told her that she would be going to live with Ruth in Richmond. “I won’t know anyone there,” she said sadly. “All my friends are here.”

“You’ll make new friends,” he replied. “Ruth really wants you to live with her.”

“I know, I know. You get old and nobody wants you. But your daughter has to take you…”

Aaron and Ruth came early the next day. Ruth went in to wake up her mother and help her dress. Betty did not appear. Henry prepared his mother’s breakfast and invited the others to join her, but they declined. The atmosphere was strained; no one spoke. When they were ready to go, Henry hugged his mother tenderly. He had tears in his eyes. Ruth put her arms around him, and that comforted him. Aaron took the mother’s bags, and walked out of the house. The others soon followed…

When they arrived home from the cemetery, friends and relatives with Ruth and Aaron among them, were crowded into the living room. There was a quiet buzz of conversation as mourners partook of the liberal array of food and drink. Henry waved away well-wishers, poured himself a drink, and walked into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

It’s like we’re having a party because we don’t have to think about her anymore. But isn’t that what I did when I forced her out of my house? And that miserable time when I refused to let her come back?

Two years had passed since Momma went to Richmond. In that time, he made several trips to see her, often with the children, but Betty never accompanied them. Ruth and his mother always greeted him warmly; Aaron was a little more distant. Henry was visiting alone this last time, and Ruth wanted to talk with him.

“Mom is getting feeble and forgetful. We have to put her in a nursing home if we want to go away for a trip. The point is that she ought to be in a place where she can get constant care.

“Aaron and I talked about it, and we feel she ought to be in a retirement place. Mom doesn’t mind. She would rather be in a care home in New York, because her friends are there. I called a home, and she will need to go through tests and interviews that will take about a week. So—can she stay with you for a week until she is admitted?”

I should have said yes and settled it right there. I didn’t. I told her that it was probably all right, but I needed to talk with Betty.

When he returned home, Betty raged at him. “Can’t you see that they want to saddle us with her again? Probably the home won’t admit her, and she’ll have to stay here!”

He delayed calling Ruth for several days, and then he got a call from Aaron. “I’m sorry,” Henry said. “We can’t take her. I haven’t been well, and we don’t have any room in the house for her right now…” Aaron hung up without another word.

He knew that it was a poor excuse. Ruth and Aaron would not believe that there was no room for his mother to stay for a week, but Ruth would never question that he did not feel well enough to care for his mother. Throughout his childhood, his father had called his spells of depression a curse, a stain on the family’s reputation among their relatives. Momma was different. While he was young, she hovered over him whenever his mind lapsed into dull emptiness.

Betty has to bear the brunt of the hard decisions. Then I take my frustrations out on the children, because I’m so weak and useless.

Henry returned to work willingly after his week of mourning. His job was the one source of comfort in the frightening mound of tasks that confronted him each day. He had started working for the utility company when he decided not to go back to college after his first year. His parents did not care about college and were happy he had a job. Only Ruth expressed her chagrin.

“You’ll be stuck at some low-level white collar job. It will soon be boring, and you will never make much money. Try to finish college, please.”

But he was not persuaded. Schoolwork was too challenging; taking tests and writing papers worried him. So he stayed with the company, and Ruth was wrong about the work becoming boring. He liked being in customer service. Even better, he got promotions and salary raises. After twenty years with the company, he felt that this had been the wisest decision of his life.

Soon after his return, upsetting rumors spread among employees. Radical changes were in prospect. Mergers and impending layoffs that could include long-time staff might take place in the near future. Betty tried to dispel his anxiety.

“Why should they fire you? You’re a dependable worker and you’re good at what you do. But even if you lose your job, you’ll get severance pay and unemployment insurance. You can have a vacation for awhile and then look for another job. Anyhow, we don’t have to worry about money. My school will never be merged, I get a good salary—please, don’t worry.”

The merger was in the cards, and so were the layoffs. When the first round of cutbacks did not include him, he felt that divine power had intervened to save him. A few weeks later, the second listing of unlucky ones smashed his hope that he was under special protection.

Betty sensed that his world would soon fall apart.

“It’s happening to a lot of people, and some of them have worked there even longer than you. The severance bonus is generous, and they offer to help you find another job. Please, Henry, keep your spirits up.”

It was more than he could handle. Betty had to plead with him to go to his office in the two weeks he was given to finish his tasks. When that was over, he sat in the house unshaven, sometimes wearing his pajamas all day.

I’m just a loser. My family goes through hell because I drag everyone down with me. Poor Betty tries to pound sense into me. But I can’t. I’m finished…

His son and daughter came so see him, almost every night for a week. The family doctor made a house call. He prescribed pills, but told Betty she had to consider putting him into a mental hospital.

In desperation, Betty called his sister and begged her to visit and talk with her brother. Ruth came alone and sat with Henry several days, in turn pleading and lecturing him. When she left, her final advice was to have the doctor sign the papers for commitment to a hospital.

Betty stayed home from work that day. She sat with him in the living room in the morning, and speaking through her tears, she told him that she had to send him to a hospital.

“Forgive me. I love you, and your children love you. But we can’t stand by and watch you destroy yourself. That’s what you’re doing.”

He wanted to comfort her, but he could not reach out. He felt an overwhelming emptiness within him, and he was tired. That evening, while she busied herself in the kitchen preparing dinner, he walked quietly to the cellar door and descended the steps.

Betty, absorbed by misgivings about putting her husband in a hospital, was startled by the sound of a falling object. She was bewildered for a moment, but in a penetrating flash, she grasped the direction and meaning of the sound. She screamed aloud and rushed to the cellar.

Henry’s body was swinging from the rafters, a rope around his neck. Her first impulse was to support the body, but the thought then struck that he did not want to go to a hospital. He had made his choice about the way he could relieve his pain. She left the body as she found it, walked up the stairs and telephoned for help.