"Dr. Scott"

I was not old enough to understand, but I did.

I couldn't yet spell the word “cat” but instinctively knew what “divorce” meant. I was told it was for the best. I do remember the moment I first heard the word from my father; beyond that, I have no memories – good or bad. I was simply too young.

Mother met and later was remarried to a man named, “Dr. Scott.” That is how we were introduced.

He was very different from our own father in many respects. That was a fact; it wasn’t a good thing or a bad thing. They were simply two very different people.

The name stuck – an unfortunate thing for him. I can now imagine the pregnant pauses after friends were introduced to them as, “Mom and Dr. Scott.” Many years later he truly sat us down and asked that we quit the moniker, “Dr. Scott,” for something -- any other name of our choosing. For me, this was simply his name – no less so than Dorothy is Dorothy, Jeff is Jeff, or Max is Max. But for him, it was a title for work -- not to be used by family. Finally speaking to me about this “name problem” fifteen years after they married, I came to understand the embarrassment it may have caused them over time. But, I will have to admit that it wasn’t easy for me to change; I have often wondered what he would have done had I ultimately decided to call him, "Ralph?"

Bob, as most of us call him now, has been very good for Mom – and vice-versa. It had been said of the two of them that they don’t take a breath without first consulting each other. It had been a true partnership.

He has an abiding respect for Mother. They have given each other everything they ever needed or wanted. And, while their extended family has seemed important to them, it may very well be said that if a dire situation was foisted on them, they could easily be completely content alone – together -- in a world of their own.

They recently celebrated their wedding anniversary. It was bittersweet.

They are now both very different people than when they married, and Mother seems to be fading from him with every waking day. Being a private, quiet, and introspective man, I once decided to brave asking him how it must feel for him to watch Mom – his partner for all these years -- suffer as she does. Quietly, he replied that he is slowly losing the one person in the world who means the most to him – the very person with whom he has now spent a veritable lifetime making decisions. He is now, figuratively, on his own.

Tomorrow, July 7, marks the one year anniversary of what was easily the most difficult decision ever made during their life together. A decision that certainly pertained to Mom – but one he had to make on his own.