Like so many, Mary was a lonesome woman with nothing to show for whatever she may have done in her life up to this point. It’s sad really, and makes one think long and hard about their own future destiny. Even sadder still is that any of the joys and triumphs she may have enjoyed have washed away just like the memory in her head.

Still, despite the advanced state of Alzheimer’s, she seemed to be locked in some sort of twilight state between remembrance and ponderance that only she could understand. Meal time was always difficult because Mary had to cling to this doll that she kept calling Joey. Persistent questioning finally paid off when she divulged that Joey was her son. Daily, she coddled this doll to her breast, refusing to eat for fear that she would wake up Joey. One bright nursing assistant brought a cradle to the dining area and finally persuaded Mary to place “Joey” in it while he slept so that she could eat. Grudgingly, Mary obliged and finally was able to get some sustenance into her already frail and malnourished body.

Around November, while the staff fussed about holiday plans within the earshot of some of the more alert residents, life pretty much seemed the same, only glittered up with cardboard cut out scenes of turkeys, corn stalks and pumpkins. Many residents stared out the window, waiting for their loved ones to come visit and take them home for the holidays. Most waited for hours, if not days on end, staring aimlessly and anxiously waiting, and most never received so much as a phone call. Still, despite the forced joviality from the staff, the alert residents seem to take on a more somber mood, except for Mary. She seemed justifiably happy, declaring to everyone that “my Steve is coming for me.” Many pressed Mary for information regarding “Steve,” hoping that she would shed a bit more light on family members who may be concerned for her whereabouts.

Healthcare staff are always hopeful that this is true, but the reality is that the less money the elderly folks have to leave behind, the less likely anyone will bother to concern themselves with their welfare. One always knows when someone has money simply because there are family members crawling out of the woodwork, often making the staff miserable with their demands. It’s pretty simple to recognize concern for a relative out of compassion and one for greed. The greedy ones always manage to ask frequently how long their relative has, as if they are waging a bet against the clock, anxiously hoping to help push the person over the edge to their final reward.

After Thanksgiving came and went, the decor once again became a bit more garish. Tinseled Christmas and Chanukah ornaments and cutouts were plastered everywhere, as though Santa regurgitated holiday mirth all over the walls and ceilings. Trees blinked their tiny lights in a multitude of corners, and no matter how much anyone tried to make it festive, it always seemed to look like the tree from Charlie Brown’s Christmas.

Mary started humming and smiling a bit more though, often declaring, “my Steve said he is coming home with a present for me!” We still didn’t know who Steve was, but most assumed it was either a son or a husband. Despite her frequent holiday declarations, Mary never seemed to realize that Steve hadn’t shown up nor had he left anything for her. In her mind, a memory long since lost in time replayed itself like a record stuck in a groove.

Christmas and New Years pretty much passed uneventfully. The residents who were like graying sentinels at their windows waiting for their loved ones for 3 months started to accept the fact that no one was coming this year. Still, they held onto hope, and would begin this very ritual again next year, provided they lived that long. Mary still clung to her “Joey” doll and whispered in his ear quite often, “Daddy couldn’t make it home, but he said I was going to get a big surprise. I bet he has one for you too!” She lovingly kissed the dolls cheek, then held it to her own and wrapped it’s little body in a part of her sweater.

Wintertime after New Year’s Eve always seemed to be harsher and colder. The sky often took on a gun metal gray overcast while trees looked like gnarled elderly people in the throes of arthritic pain, frozen in a snapshot moment of natures cruel history. Mary started going to the window in the dining room, looking out towards the darkened skies and the mountains of bare trees. Softly, she sung under her breath “...but most of all my darling...I miss you most of all...when autumn leaves begin to fall....”

Mary’s moods turned daily from eager to settled to dismayed. She was becoming more unpredictable in her waking state, but she still held tightly to her doll. “Don’t worry Joey,” said Mary. “Daddy promised he was going to come home this time, just you wait and see.”

Valentine’s Day was soon approaching. Some of the alert residents put the anticipatory waiting from the preceding holidays behind them and would start flirting with staff and peers alike. Some recounted tales of bygone youth, lost love and other memorable moments that fondly became their badges of honor. Mary, for the first time, noticed decorations all over the walls. She gleefully hugged her doll tighter exclaiming to Joey that Daddy was coming home soon with his big surprise.

After much badgering and pressuring from the Social Work department, a large stack of hospital records finally made their entrance to the facility. Mary Campbell’s sparse history was finally going to shed some light.

The first portion read like any other medical record, detailing doctor visits, hospital stays and the like. As one delved further into the record, into the dormant past of Mary Campbell, the puzzle began to unravel.

On Feb 14th 1937, at the age of 26, Mary Campbell was arrested for the murder and dismemberment of her husband Steve. Steve Campbell had been away on a business trip, much of it in the company of his secretary and mistress. Since the birth of their son Joey, Steve Campbell found life with a wife and child too stifling for his gallant ways. According to Mary Campbell’s testimony, Steve kept promising to return with a big surprise. On Valentine’s Day, 1937, Mr. Campbell had returned home and located Mary in the kitchen. He presented her with a huge heart that should have contained mountains of sinful chocolate. Instead, when Mary opened the box, she found a decree for divorce.

At that point, Steve Campbell realized that Mary was clutching the remains to their dead son, who, according to later autopsy reports, died of starvation. After Steve Campbell had left for his business trip, the loneliness and isolation seemed to unravel Mary’s already fragile state of mind, causing her to have a mental collapse. She withdrew into herself, avoiding friends and family while anxiously waiting Steve’s return.

Alarmed by the sight of his soon to be ex-wife and dead child, Steve attempted to take the infant from her arms. Mary now stunned with the final blow that the isolation she feared was upon her, railed against Mr. Campbell, screaming that he was not going to leave her and the baby.

Heated words were exchanged that drifted out the still open front door. Tensions further escalated when Steve’s secretary Miriam came out from the waiting car to see what was taking so long. Mary eyed the doe eyed blonde and snarled, “you want to leave me for that whore?!” Steve turned and met Miriam’s eyes, and barked orders for her to get back to the car. In the instant it took him to turn away, Mary had picked up a steak knife and drove it through his chest, stabbing him repeatedly.

While Steve gasped for air, Miriam rushed into the room to pull Steve from the deranged woman’s assault and in the process was slashed in the face, arms and chest. Miriam managed to escape, tearfully running to the neighbors home, banging and pleading for help.

When the police arrived, Mary was seen sitting on the floor, splattered in crimson and in the midst of eating Steve Campbell’s heart. She looked up at the police and smilingly said, “My Steve brought me a big valentine’s heart. Would you like some?” She held out the tattered remains of the stilled and bloody organ, as the warm sanguinous fluid dripped down her arms.

Mary was slightly lucid for a brief period to give her testimony, but this was short lived and she succumbed further into mental derangement. Miriam Benson provided the police with the rest of the story and pretty much made this an open and shut case for them. Mary Campbell was declared legally insane and institutionalized for the remainder of her years.

Miriam, however was unsettled and felt that she was the cause to Mary’s derangement and was further remorseful that her actions lead to the death of her lover, his son and their marriage.

A little after a year from Mary’s institutionalization, Miriam requested permission to take Mary out on a pass. She told the hospital staff that she was taking Mary shopping, however, she really wanted her to visit the grave of her husband and son, in hope that the reality would help her to waken to some semblance of reality. Since Mary had responded well to the electroshock treatments, and her temperament didn’t seem dangerous, the hospital agreed to this short trip.

Miriam drove through the Fern Gardens Cemetery, clutching the wheel with a mix of anxiety and sadness. Autumn had turned the leaves to their bright colors just before they fell for their winter’s nap. Her head was covered with a white scarf while her tear burned eyes were covered in thick dark sunglasses. Mary sat beside her, simply smiling and episodically mumbling, “my Steve is going to get a big surprise.”

The car pulled slowly towards the grave. Miriam turned off the car, got out and went to the passenger side to help Mary out. They walked towards the grave and Miriam realized it was still too soon. The horror that had taken place only a little over a year, coupled with her heartwrenching ache for the man she would never have, only served to well up the tears. Miriam touched the top of the tombstone, sobbing softly as the mascara dripped down her cheeks. She whispered repeatedly to the wind, “ I’’m so sorry honey, I am just..so...sorry...” Those were the last words Miriam uttered. While she was absorbed in her grief, Mary saw that one of the caretakers had left a rake beside a nearby tree. She quietly tiptoed to retrieve it, came to where Miriam was standing, and slammed her in the head, causing her to fall, bang her head against the tombstone and go unconscious.

Hours later when the caretakers came back, they saw Mary cradling the body of Miriam. At first they thought the woman had taken ill. On closer inspection, Mary had clawed the skin off of Miriam, pulled out her heart and ate it. The caretakers stated to the police that she kept singing, but she changed the words to “My Funny Valentine” to “My Bloody Valentine,” and would let out a crazy cackle each time she sang that refrain. “I told you Steve, I was going to get you a big surprise,” said Mary. “ I hope you like it!” She kept cackling and smacking bloody handprints against the tombstone up until the police arrived.

From that day forward, Mary lived her life behind the cold steel bars of many asylums, until her ripe old age. Though her frail body fails to hint at her horrid past, sometimes, when the moon is just right, you can see the lurking madness hiding malevolently behind the eyes of what seems to be a fragile old woman.