Page 14 of Must Love Flowers
“But you’d rather I didn’t.”
He nodded. “You wanted my opinion, and you got it. All I ask is that you carefully think this through before you decide.”
She mulled over his words and then sighed. “I appreciate your input.”
“Glad you asked. Anything else on your mind?”
Now that he mentioned it, there was. “Emmie thinks I should find a grief therapy group.” The conversation with her sister had stayed in her mind, although she wasn’t keen on the idea of spilling her heartache out to a group of strangers. Since her son was happy to share his thoughts, she might as well get his feedback on this.
“Aunt Emmie said that?” Nick asked. The wine seemed to relax him, too.
“Emmie feels that I’ve never dealt with the grief I have over the loss of your father.”
Nick’s look became solemn. “I’m going to tell you the truth,Mom. I think it’s a good idea. It wasn’t just Dad you lost. Everything changed, and it hit you hard.”
He said this as though she hadn’t been aware of the losses. Hanging her head, she agreed. “It did.”
“I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but we both know you’ve changed since Dad died. There’ve been more times than I can count that I wanted to talk to you and realized you weren’t hearing me.”
“When?” she asked, shocked that this could possibly be true.
“I was thinking about buying a house and have been saving up for one for the last couple years. With the housing market high, I worried if the time was right and wanted your advice, remember?”
“Vaguely,” she said, and bit into her lower lip before she realized what she was doing. “I’m sorry.”
“No worries, Mom, I decided to wait a bit anyway.”
Joan felt bad for letting her son down. In order to not ruin their evening, she asked, “Do you remember Joe and Gennie Davis?”
“Sure. I used to hang with Sam, remember? What about them?”
Joan took in a breath before she answered. The wine had loosened her tongue, and after what Nick had mentioned, her mind was whirling.
“After the funeral, she told me that after Joe died she saw a counselor she highly recommended and gave me her name and phone number.”
“You never made the call, did you?”
Joan shook her head. “No. I don’t know what I did with it and doubt I could find it now.”
“Then call Gennie. I bet she’d be happy to hear from you.”
Still Joan hesitated.
“Mom,” Nick said, shaking his head. “You need to do this.”
His insistence surprised her. It seemed her son had strong opinions.
Nick closed his eyes and released a heavy sigh. “Mom, you mean the world to me and Steve. We love you, but we don’t know how best to help you out of this slump. I think talking to a counselor will do you a world of good.”
Leaning closer, he lowered his voice as if he didn’t want anyone listening to their conversation. “The thing is…being around you is hard sometimes. You’re so sad, and it makes me sad to see you like this.”
Joan’s eyes widened as she struggled to accept what her son was saying. She hadn’t realized how her grief had affected her sons. Absorbed in her own misery, not once had she considered that her children had not only lost their father, but in many ways her as well.
“Steve and I have been worried about you for a long time and didn’t know what to do or if we should say anything. We thought, you know, that all you needed was time to get over losing Dad, but it’s been four years now and you’re no better now than after Dad first died.”
Joan opened and closed her mouth. Instinctively she wanted to argue how off-base her sons were and then realized they were right. She felt trapped in her grief, lost and floundering.
“I’m making progress,” she said instead.
