I swear I can think like a confident person when it comes to this stuff, but thinking and acting are two different things.
“Hey there, Delilah,” Janessa says as she comes through the door and takes the seat beside me. She tucks her hair behind her ear and pushes her purse beneath her chair. She’s wearing a tank top and shorts, and as she settles into her seat, she sighs loudly.
“What a day. Jackie and I spent the afternoon making sand castles. I’ve never built so many in one day.” She arches a brow and smiles. “I wonder if there are surrogate castle builders. I’ll have to look into that.”
We both laugh.
I like being with Janessa, and I still don’t feel funny around her—and she obviously doesn’t feel weird around me. For the first time since coming to group, I notice I’m holding my head higher. I have a little better handle on who I am, and it feels really good.
Mark and Cathy come into the room holding hands. Their shoulders are rounded forward and there’s no mistaking the red rims around Cathy’s eyes. I wonder if she’s upset over the daughter they lost or something unrelated, and then I realize that everything in their life is probably connected to her death in some way. No words can come close to taking away their pain. It’ll be okay is something people say when they don’t know what else to say. Or give it time. I wonder if they ever want to respond with, No, it won’t, or All the time in the world won’t bring our daughter back. I can’t imagine losing a child, and I can’t imagine how they make it through each day.
“How are things with Ashley?” Janessa whispers.
“Amazing. But also nerve-racking. I’m not very good at the whole PDA thing. It still makes me feel funny.”
She nods as if she understands, but before she can respond, Michael and Meredith enter the room and take the seats across from us.
“Good evening, ladies.” Meredith folds her hands in her lap. She looks like a librarian in her long skirt and button-down blouse. “Mark, Cathy. It’s nice to see you.”
Mark smiles, but I can tell it’s forced by the pinched lines around the edges of his mouth. They lost their daughter to leukemia some months before I began attending the sessions. Sometimes they seem like they’re doing well, moving forward. Then there are times like tonight, when their tired eyes and boneless postures speak of sleepless nights and longing for a daughter they’ll never hold again.
Janessa leans in close and whispers, “You need to acknowledge her in public as soon as you’re comfortable.”
It takes me a minute to realize she’s talking about Ashley.
“I know.” I watch Meredith as she rights her purse beside her chair.
“You’ll hurt her feelings, and that’s hard to overcome.” Janessa holds my gaze and nods, as if to say, Trust me.
Mark’s voice calls both of our attention. “Meredith, I think Cathy and I have fallen back into a cycle of guilt and bargaining, and we’re not sure how to break free from it. We feel guilty that our daughter died, when we would have gladly given our lives instead, and even though we know that’s not a reasonable bargain to wish for, we can’t stop. And then we feel guilty for not being able to stop.” Mark clasps both hands around Cathy’s. Cathy nods in confirmation. “Is there anything you can suggest to help us through this?”
I try to pay attention, to think past what Janessa said, but I know she’s right. I see the hurt in Ashley’s eyes every time I pull out of her reach. I wish I could have told my parents years ago and just dealt with the fallout. I think it would have made things much easier now.
“Mark, Cathy, as you know, stages of guilt aren’t always singular, and they don’t follow regular patterns. For some people, bargaining and guilt go hand in hand, and for others, they skip over one of those stages altogether. Everyone’s grief is different.”
Meredith’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. Her eyes are empathetic and her tone is warm and understanding. “It’s very common for a person to feel as though they’ve gotten past the hardest stages of grieving only to find out that their legs are knocked out from under them a few weeks or months later. Was there something that started this cycle? A birthday? An anniversary?”
A first girlfriend.
Mark and Cathy exchange a knowing glance. Cathy nods, and Mark answers for both of them. “We went out with our friends and they were talking about their daughter starting college in the fall. As you know, our Mara would have been attending college this fall, too.”
“And how did that make you feel?” Meredith leans forward as she asks this.