In Sickness, In Health

One of my creative ramblings.

In Sickness, In Health
by Robin Bailey


January 21, 1992

My dearest Journal.

God, what a cold thing to write to--a journal. I don't like the sound of it. I think maybe I will call it by a person's name. Yes, I think I like that much better. I know. I will think of it as if I am writing a letter to my bestest friend. That is, if I had one. What shall I call her? Elizabeth? No. That sounds so formal and stiff. I don't like it. I know! I will call my journal Sarah. I've always loved that name.

My dearest Sarah,
It's been so long since we've talked last. I've almost forgotten what you look like.

I hate my own name. Ann. Have you ever heard of anything so plain and boring? It's not anything that's like the real me. The real me. No one truly knows the real me, except for Edward. Ah. Edward. Not Eddie, or Ed or any other name for him. It is always Edward.

January 22, 1992

Dear Sarah,
I must tell you about the wonderful vacation we are having. Edward and I are at one of our favorite resorts. It's up in the mountains. Today, we had breakfast together and he went off for a hike while I sit here relaxing. I love days like the one we are having. The view from the resort's porch is quite breathtaking. Sarah, I know you'd love it if you were here. The sky is so clear and the air has the smell of pine cones. I can see the lake from where I sit--the water is so blue it makes your eyes hurt.

The real me. I've always been an adventurious-type of person. I can't even count on both hands all the journeys I've taken to far-off lands. Of course, many of those trips have been between the covers of great and wonderful books. Edward loves my books almost as much as I do. I know one day we're going to take a cruise around the world in 80 days. We will. Edward and me. He's even pinky-promised me. So you know he means it.

March 14,1992

Dear Sarah,
We plan on staying here on an extended vacation, my dearest Sarah. Edward has worked day and night for the past sixteen years so his business would be successful. And it is! We sacrificed for so long and now we are reaping the benefits. God, it is so beautiful here.


Edward works so much. Day and night. Night and day. We go days without seeing each other. But I know my dearest Edward thinks of me. He often tells me so. They say confession is good for the soul. I think I am going to use my journal to confess a few of the mistakes I've made lately. It can't be used against me. And no one will know. I plan on ripping this up as soon as I'm done. But I know I will feel better to write everything down. And I do feel better already.

March 29, 1992

Dear Sarah,
Oh, Sarah. Edward fed me grapes last night. We had such a wonderful evening. We sat underneath the star-filled night sky on our blanket and snuggled, laughed and completely enjoyed ourselves. Many people here say we act like newlyweds. They find it hard to believe that we've been married for 17 years. But we do love each other so. Edward said I was the only woman for him.

Only woman. I have to admit Edward was completely honest with me there. I was the only woman for him. The only problem was, I wasn't quite enough man for him. It's amazing how you can be married to someone for 17 years and never know his true feelings. Actually, Edward isn't gay, he is bisexual, as he explained to me. That was the day he told me he was finally leaving me for his lover. Bob.

What a boring name Bob is. His lover couldn't have an exotic name like Tomas or Sven. No, it was Bob. Not even Robert. But Bob. Bob was a man Edward had known for as long as we'd been married. Balding, paunchy, near-sighted Bob was an accountant. In fact, he was our accountant.

How dull it must be, crunching numbers all day. But this was the great love of Edward's life. he finally realized he'd rather live with Bob than be with me. It's not that he didn't love me, Edward proclaimed as he packed his bags. He just loved Bob more.

April 24, 1992

My dearest Sarah,
Edward and I made love last night as the stars twinkled above us. It was as delicious as lovemaking could be. Edward and I both saw a shooting star. We made a wish and even though I know you aren't supposed to share it outloud, we did. Edward and I share everything. We never keep secrets from each other. Edward said his wish was never to leave my side and to be the kind of husband that I deserved.

Oh Sarah, I started crying at that point. I hugged Edward and told him he already was the husband that I deserved. He is so perfect, so handsome, so devoted. I told him my wish was for that night to never end. I know we are always going to be as happy as we are tonight.

I wasn't mad when Edward left. I guess I should have been, but for some reason I wasn't. I sat there on my favorite oversized chair, my latest book clutched against my chest and wondered what I would do about dinner. Should I make a sandwich or go out and get something to eat.

I knew Edward would come back to me. I had complete faith that he was just going through a mid-life crisis. This was his way of sowing his wild oats or something. Edward loved me. He always did and always will. I know he will come back. Bob couldn't love him the way that I do. No one loves Edward as much as I do. I'd die for Edward. Bob wouldn't. For God's sake, Bob is an accountant! All he cares about are numbers. Edward would come to his senses. We have a life to share together--until the end of time. In sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer .. and the rest of the wedding vow mumbo-jumbo.

May 1, 1993

Dear Sarah,
Edward was so funny this morning. Before he left for his daily hike he ate a huge breakfast. I am amazed tht a man as trim and handsome as he, can eat so much and not gain an ounce. I eat one piece of chocolate and I instantly gain five pounds. I am a very lucky woman to be married to such a wonderful man. Edward brought me a single long-stemmed rose when he came to breakfast. He handed it to me and kissed me. He said the beauty of the rose barely matched my own beauty. Oh, how my heart fluttered. Edward is such a sweet-talker. It's a shame you two haven't met. I know you are busy with your life half-way around the world. One day we must get together so you can meet my knight-in-shining armor. I know you'd love him as much as I do. Maybe now that Edward has retired we can plan a trip to Cairo and visit you. Oh, wouldn't that be devine! I must talk to him about that as soon as he gets back.


Edward slammed the door in my face telling me that he wasn't coming back to me. He said if I didn't leave him and Bob alone he was going to call the cops. The police. Yeah, right. Edward woudn't do that. He loved me. He's just going through a phase. He wasn't happy with Bob. I could tell. His face was tired looking and definately looked unhappy when we talked. He'd be coming home soon. I knew he would.

July 4, 1994

Dear Sarah,
What a simply wonderful holiday Edward and I shared. The fireworks in the sky were almost as dazzling as the ones he and I shared from our beach cabana. yes, dear heart we are now in Tahiti. We have our own private beach. We've made love so many times I've lost count. There must be something in the tropical air! I've managed to achieve a little bit of a tan. You know how I usually burn and peel, but I think the sun down here is much better for my pale skin. Edward says I have quite a glow about me. What a fantastic man he is. I am so very lucky.

As I started to leave the ritzy apartment building Edward shared with his boring Bob I saw a familiar face. Bob was crossing the street and heading straight for me.

Without a second thought I hid behind a huge ficus tree in the lobby. Bob entered the building and headed for the elevator. He never even saw me. But I saw him. He wasn't so hot to look at. I don't know what Edward saw in him. Bob's off-white pants were wrinkled. He wore an army green polo shirt that stuck to his back in the summer heat. His thinning salt and pepper hair hung down in strings from his sweaty, bald head.

I don't know what made me do it. I walked up to him and stabbed him in the back with my paring knife. You know, the knife Edward gave me last Christmas. Remember, he gave me silverware in a really beautiful pattern as my present.

Now one saw me do it. Bob slumped and I quickly removed my knife. The door opened and I pushed Bob into the empty elevator. He never even saw me. He landed face down onto the hard floor. The red stain was spreading across his back. It turned his green polo shirt a muddy color. I smiled as I put the knife in my pocket.

Edward would come home now. I wondered as I left the building if I would have time to stop by the grocery store and buy a couple of steaks. There's nothing Edward likes better than a rare steak, except maybe making love to me.

September 4, 1995

My dearest Sarah,
Time has seemed to stand still. Edward and I are sailing around the world in our sailboat. We have visited many islands and countries. We are having a great time. We spend our time eating, sleeping, and making love.

I can't remember the last time I even worried about being somewhere. We are so lazy nowadays. I sit around and sunbathe while Edward sails the boat. We fit together so well, my dear friend. We will reach your home one day.


The overweight nurse quietly pushed the medicine cart down the sterile hallway. There weren't that many noises this time of night. Most patients were peacefully sleeping the Darvon and Percodan-type of sleep one would expect in a mental hospital.

The nurse, known as Sarah, entered room 113 with a careful step. This particular patient has been convicted of killing a man. Nurse Sarah was always wary when entering this room. They didn't pay her enough to risk her own life with a crazy killer.

With a gentle shake, nurse Sarah woke up Mrs. Tilton. "Here you go hun, take your medicine and go back to sleep."

A sleepy-faced old woman accepted the pills and gratefully swallowed. Her head falling back to a soft pillow, a smile on her wrinkled face, a book clutched to her chest.

Nurse Sarah shook her head, and felt sorry for the crazy woman who always had her nose in a book and never quite connected with reality. She guessed that's what happened when you were locked up in a mental hospital for 15 years and never had any visitors.

©1995 Robin Bailey