Next time, for sure.
* * *
—
All too soon it was time for Joan to leave for the therapy group. She dragged her feet as long as she could, dreading this. She would keep her word to Dr. O’Brien and attend this one session, but that was it. Once her obligation was fulfilled, she wanted nothing more to do with this group. Her main goal was to get through the meeting without breaking down into a sobbing mess.
The reason she’d sought a therapist was to dig herself out of the dark hole she’d buried herself in for the last four years. What she didn’t need was to meet others in the same pit and feel the weight of their grief along with her own. For the first time, she was making progress. She wanted to move forward, not backward, and she was convinced this group would impede her efforts rather than help.
“I shouldn’t be long,” she told Maggie, who’d taken to studying at the kitchen table. Joan was pleased that she chose not to spend all her time in her room. Maggie had one last final. Her plan, as she’d explained to Joan, was to work as many hours as she could over the summer months to save up for the next semester of schooling. She wouldn’t hear about the scholarship for another few days. Joan sincerely hoped Maggie received the financial assistance she needed to continue her studies. From everything she’d seen, Joan believed Maggie would make a wonderful nurse.
The parking lot was filled with several cars when Joan pulled in. She was lucky to find a space. She waited in her car until the last minute before she headed toward the office. Dr. O’Brien was in the foyer area and appeared to be waiting for her.
She opened the door for Joan. “I’m so pleased you came.”
“I said I would.”
“You could have easily found an excuse.”
Joan had come up with several. In the end she felt obligated to follow through, even if she had to grit her teeth the entire session.
“Is there anything you’d like to know before we go into the group?” Dr. O’Brien asked.
Joan shook her head, then reconsidered. “There are only eight members, right? That’s what you told me earlier.”
“Yes, and all eight are in the conference room already.”
“There seems to be a lot of cars in the lot.”
Dr. O’Brien nodded, confirming her observation. “Several of the counselors see clients after-hours. Not everyone is able to make a daytime appointment.”
That made sense and eased her concerns of having to face a roomful of strangers.
“Are you sure you don’t want to know anything about the other group members before we go in?” she asked, as she led the way down a long hallway.
“Seeing that I only intend to be here for this one session, I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“As you wish.” She stopped in front of the door marked Conference Room and pushed it open.
Joan walked into the room and noticed a circle of folding chairs. Several faces turned to look in her direction, but she avoided eye contact, keeping her gaze lowered.
“Good evening,” Dr. O’Brien said. “We have a visitor tonight. I’d like you to welcome Joan Sample.”
A chorus of greetings came, and Joan looked up for the first time.
Her breath froze in her lungs.
There in the group sat Phil Harrison, her landscaper.
Chapter 15
If Joan was shocked to see him, it was nothing compared to the way Phil felt. His emotions bounced from regret to relief and then to a sense of welcome. Knowing she was a widow, Phil had tossed around the idea of mentioning the grief counseling group himself. From personal experience, he knew being with others who had suffered significant losses would help Joan. Convinced the group might interest her, he’d tried to think of ways to bring it up in their conversations and never found the right opportunity. That Joan discovered the group on her own was a blessing, although he feared his being a group member might make her uncomfortable. He hoped that wouldn’t be the case.
“Oh good,” Mary Lou chirped in, breaking into his whirling thoughts. “Another woman. Welcome, Joan.” Mary Lou patted the empty chair next to her, indicating that she wanted Joan to sit by her.
Joan offered Mary Lou a weak smile and claimed the seat, which relieved Phil. He was afraid she might sit next to him, as the only other empty chair was at his side. Having her close would be uncomfortable for them both.
His mind was racing, trying to decide if he should mention that they already knew each other or wait for her to bring it up. It was awkward, unsettling, and a bit unnerving at the same time.
“Why don’t we start by introducing ourselves to Joan,” Dr. O’Brien suggested, motioning toward the others.
Doug spoke first. He’d lost his wife a couple years ago and had come a long way in the healing process. Phil had noticed Doug’s keen interest in Mary Lou of late, although the woman seemed oblivious. It could be she had read the signs and decided to ignore Doug’s attention.
Sally was next. “I’m Sally, and Mary Lou’s right, we need another woman around here to balance everything out. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Sally was in her mid-seventies and widowed within the last year. Like Joan, she struggled with the loss of her husband and had trouble traversing the unfamiliarity of living life alone. She spoke of how uncomfortable it was for her to assume the tasks her husband had always done. Her children were a big help, but she realized she couldn’t rely on them too heavily.
The rest of the group shared their names. Warren. James. Glenn. Sherry.
When it came to his turn, Phil simply said his name and didn’t add any other pertinent information, as a couple of the others had. Each had offered a welcome, and he did the same, almost by rote.
“Joan,” Dr. O’Brien said, “would you like to tell us something about yourself?”
Her gaze flew to Phil. Her look resembled that of a deer trapped in the light of an oncoming vehicle.
“Ah…” she started and hesitated. “As I said earlier, I’m a widow.”
“Me, too,” Mary Lou inserted. “And so is Sally.”
Joan offered her newfound friends a weak smile. “Jared died four years ago, and I’ve mostly kept to myself since then.” She added a few details about how her husband’s sudden death upturned her life.
“I know exactly how you felt,” Sally said when Joan finished. “My husband had a heart attack and was gone before the ambulance arrived. We had booked two cruises and had all these plans for when George retired, and then, poof, he was gone in the flash of an eye. We loved cruising, letting someone else pamper us.”
“But, Sally, tell Joan,” Mary Lou inserted. “You went on those cruises anyway and had the time of your life.”
Sally grinned. “I did. My best friend from high school came with me. In the beginning, I didn’t want to go, since they were planned for George and me. My kids were the ones who insisted I follow through, and I’m so pleased I did.
“In some ways, seeing Spain and Italy was exactly what I needed. I wished it could have been with George, but every site I visited, I felt he was with me in spirit. Those cruises and this group have helped me realize that, while George is gone, I have a whole lot of life left in me.”