Must Love Flowers(48)

“Wonderful. Is it helping?”

Joan told the counselor about visiting the cemetery and yelling at Jared and then feeling both guilty and foolish.

“That is understandable and necessary. Not to mention a giant step in the right direction.”

Joan agreed. When she’d returned home, it seemed like a giant weight had been lifted from her heart. The anger had been cleansing. Joan realized this was only the first step and there were many more issues around Jared’s death that she had yet to address. She would, though, in time, and that encouraged her.

“Now that you are coming to terms with the loss, Joan, you can start to look forward to the life ahead of you. There are two ways to consider this.”

“How do you mean?” Joan leaned forward, anxious to understand.

“You can continue to cope as you have been,” Dr. O’Brien said, “but I can see that you’ve already done that to the best of your ability, and it appears it’s no longer working.”

Joan realized Dr. O’Brien was right. Her coping skills, sequestering herself in the house, working jigsaw puzzles, and ignoring anything outside her front door, no longer offered solace.

“The other way may prove to be one of the most difficult aspects of grieving for you to reconcile.”

Joan wasn’t sure she understood.

“From what you’ve said, it feels like you’re ready to move forward and make the best of what you have.”

“Yes. Definitely.”

“And yet there’s the desire to remain connected to Jared.”

That was also true. She couldn’t simply erase the years or forget all that they’d once shared.

“The two go hand in hand, Joan. Back and forth, side by side. Moving forward yet staying connected. Does that make sense?”

Joan still wasn’t entirely sure it did. “Can you give me an example?”

“Of course. Moving forward is attending the group and staying connected is visiting the gravesite. You removed Jared’s clothes from the closet; that was moving forward. Looking through the photo albums was remaining connected. It’s a delicate balance.”

“It is,” Joan agreed. She hadn’t removed Jared’s golf clubs or any of his woodworking equipment, thinking it would be a waste to give it up when one of her sons might want those items later.

“Tell me how you’re feeling right now?” Dr. O’Brien asked.

Joan took a moment to assess her feelings. “Better, I think.” It felt good to tell someone what she’d done and how angry she’d been. “Taking in a boarder was also a step in the right direction.”

“It’s difficult to face being alone,” the counselor said, “especially when you and Jared were together twenty-four/seven.”

That was the crux. If they hadn’t worked together, it might have been just a little easier to accept his passing. The fact that they were always together, nearly attached at the hip, made the adjustment to being single even more difficult.

“There’s a difference between loneliness and aloneness, Joan. As your healing process takes root, you’ll find ways of belonging again, only it won’t be as it once was. I’m grateful you’re continuing with the group. Finding sources that help you grow out of your shell will offer new opportunities.”

Joan could see this was already happening.

“While you and Jared were together, there were times when you were apart, right?”

“Of course.”

“Even when you were alone you weren’t actually lonely because you had a partner. Someone to eat with, share ideas with; someone to help you make decisions. You had a social life together, friends, outings, vacations. You were a couple. Much of the loneliness after the death of a mate is the loss of identity. When it happens abruptly, as it did in your case, it’s only natural to feel disoriented and lost.”

Joan had never thought of this aspect of loneliness, but now that she had, it resonated deeply. Her identity had been shaken. She no longer knew who she was. After being a wife and coworker for all those years, abruptly she was neither.

“I read ahead in the workbook,” she admitted, fearing Dr. O’Brien might frown on her eagerness to move forward. “Is that all right?”

“Of course. Did you have a question?”

Joan nodded. “I noticed it mentioned helping others as beneficial.”

“It amazingly is. The more effort we put into others, the stronger we begin to feel ourselves.”

Joan let her mind soak in those words. Helping Maggie had been huge for her. It was as if her subconscious recognized this was beneficial for her as much as for Maggie.

Dr. O’Brien glanced at her watch and frowned. “Unfortunately, our time is up, but Joan, you’re doing exceptionally well. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll look forward to seeing you at the next group therapy session.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Good. Before you go, I’d like to recommend a book I feel you’ll find helpful.”

“Of course.”

“It’s C. S. Lewis’s A Grief Observed.”

Joan was willing to do anything that would free her mind and her heart. “I’ll order it right away.”

Dr. O’Brien led her to the door and Joan left. When she was in the parking lot, she slowly exhaled—so grateful she had taken these steps toward recovery. It was painful and traumatic, but then she remembered all that the butterfly had to endure to break free.