didn’t. She was convinced the doctors meant to do her harm.”
“Why didn’t Dad have her put away?” Piper asked. “He obviously knew how dangerous she’d become—at least there at the end. Why didn’t he do something like that instead of . . . kill her?”
Geena spoke before I could. “Because it’s not that easy to put someone away. The years of ridding yourself of crazy relatives is long past. There were so many false cases—situations where folks just wanted to put away wealthy relatives so they could take over their estates, for example, that laws were changed. You can’t just force a person into treatment anymore.”
“But couldn’t the courts have done it?” Piper asked, her voice cracking.
“Dad tried.” They both looked at me. “He tried to have her committed several times. From what I saw, however, the court interviews were never more than fifteen or twenty minutes and Mom appeared perfectly rational. One judge even commented that she was the epitome of reason and sanity and he wondered if the husband wasn’t the one with issues.”
Piper shook her head. “Well, you’re just full of knowledge.”
Geena gave me a rebuking look. I could see they were both more than a little angry. “Believe me, I really wanted to say something much sooner, but I was . . . well, I was afraid. Afraid you’d be angry at me. And obviously you are.”
Ignoring my excuse, Geena spoke. “I’ve studied this from a legal perspective. I can easily see the situation happening just the way you’ve described. That’s why there are so many mentally unstable people out on the streets. It’s why some family members just walk away, never to be heard from again. Mental health can’t seem to strike a happy medium.”
“So crazy people are just allowed to call the shots and in turn risk the lives of children and others?” Piper asked.
I’d asked the same questions most of my life, but I simply said, “They have rights too.”
Geena was less concerned. “Unfortunately, their inability to understand what’s happening to them, or to convince themselves that medications can be useful in keeping them on even footing, tends to send them veering across the line where their rights end and ours begin.”
Piper looked like she might well be sick. “Well, if Mom was crazy—if she was schizophrenic like you say and did all those horrible things—someone should have considered what she was doing to us . . . what a danger she was to us.”
“Someone did,” Geena said, meeting my gaze.
For several minutes none of us said another word. I could see that they were thinking the same thing I was. Maybe we shouldn’t say anything about our father’s deed. Maybe it was best to bury this in the past and leave it there. After all, if he’d tried to get Mom help, and I knew he had, then maybe he had been as desperate to protect us as the courts were to protect Mom. Maybe it really came down to his believing there was no other alternative.
My heart ached at the thought of him struggling to figure out how to keep his children safe from the woman he loved—the mother of those same children. If he divorced her and left Mom to her own devices, she would most likely have died anyway. And, she probably would have found a way to take one of us—if not all of us—with her. If he’d put down ultimatums, it might only have caused Mom to do something rash. I couldn’t think of a single solution that didn’t involve the potential for further danger to us.
“I have to do this for the girls. It’s for them. They will be safe.” His words echoed over and over in my mind.
Tears came to my eyes. I hadn’t allowed such a show of emotion in a long, long time. I had thought, in fact, that I was cried out. I refused to give in to my sorrow and blinked back the drops. How could we move forward with our plan to talk to him? How could we betray the only one who had done what he could to protect us?
My mind rebelled against
“Why didn’t Dad have her put away?” Piper asked. “He obviously knew how dangerous she’d become—at least there at the end. Why didn’t he do something like that instead of . . . kill her?”
Geena spoke before I could. “Because it’s not that easy to put someone away. The years of ridding yourself of crazy relatives is long past. There were so many false cases—situations where folks just wanted to put away wealthy relatives so they could take over their estates, for example, that laws were changed. You can’t just force a person into treatment anymore.”
“But couldn’t the courts have done it?” Piper asked, her voice cracking.
“Dad tried.” They both looked at me. “He tried to have her committed several times. From what I saw, however, the court interviews were never more than fifteen or twenty minutes and Mom appeared perfectly rational. One judge even commented that she was the epitome of reason and sanity and he wondered if the husband wasn’t the one with issues.”
Piper shook her head. “Well, you’re just full of knowledge.”
Geena gave me a rebuking look. I could see they were both more than a little angry. “Believe me, I really wanted to say something much sooner, but I was . . . well, I was afraid. Afraid you’d be angry at me. And obviously you are.”
Ignoring my excuse, Geena spoke. “I’ve studied this from a legal perspective. I can easily see the situation happening just the way you’ve described. That’s why there are so many mentally unstable people out on the streets. It’s why some family members just walk away, never to be heard from again. Mental health can’t seem to strike a happy medium.”
“So crazy people are just allowed to call the shots and in turn risk the lives of children and others?” Piper asked.
I’d asked the same questions most of my life, but I simply said, “They have rights too.”
Geena was less concerned. “Unfortunately, their inability to understand what’s happening to them, or to convince themselves that medications can be useful in keeping them on even footing, tends to send them veering across the line where their rights end and ours begin.”
Piper looked like she might well be sick. “Well, if Mom was crazy—if she was schizophrenic like you say and did all those horrible things—someone should have considered what she was doing to us . . . what a danger she was to us.”
“Someone did,” Geena said, meeting my gaze.
For several minutes none of us said another word. I could see that they were thinking the same thing I was. Maybe we shouldn’t say anything about our father’s deed. Maybe it was best to bury this in the past and leave it there. After all, if he’d tried to get Mom help, and I knew he had, then maybe he had been as desperate to protect us as the courts were to protect Mom. Maybe it really came down to his believing there was no other alternative.
My heart ached at the thought of him struggling to figure out how to keep his children safe from the woman he loved—the mother of those same children. If he divorced her and left Mom to her own devices, she would most likely have died anyway. And, she probably would have found a way to take one of us—if not all of us—with her. If he’d put down ultimatums, it might only have caused Mom to do something rash. I couldn’t think of a single solution that didn’t involve the potential for further danger to us.
“I have to do this for the girls. It’s for them. They will be safe.” His words echoed over and over in my mind.
Tears came to my eyes. I hadn’t allowed such a show of emotion in a long, long time. I had thought, in fact, that I was cried out. I refused to give in to my sorrow and blinked back the drops. How could we move forward with our plan to talk to him? How could we betray the only one who had done what he could to protect us?
My mind rebelled against
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