Page 64 of Must Love Flowers
Disappointment showed in Mary Lou’s eyes. “Is it because of the puppy again?”
Joan tucked her purse strap over her shoulder and nodded. “Maggie is out, and I really can’t leave the poor fellow alone for hours on end.”
“Edison is in his crate, right?”
“Yes…but.”
“No more excuses,” Mary Lou said. “Tonight you’re going. I get as much from that time as I do the meetings. You need to come.”
Joan’s impulse was to refuse. The words were on her lips, and she intended to use Edison as a convenient excuse as she had in the past. She abruptly changed her mind. “You’re right. Edison should be fine for a couple hours. I’ll join you.”
“It’s the best way to get to know the others,” Mary Lou reminded her. “The meetings are helpful, don’t get me wrong. Half the time, though, it’s the coffee afterward where we get down to the nitty-gritty of adjusting to our new lives.”
Joan remembered what Dr. O’Brien had mentioned in their session, about the loss of identity after a spouse dies. The group would help her find a new one, Joan realized. New friends, new experiences, and a shared understanding of who she was as a single adult.
—
When they entered the room, four others had arrived and taken their seats in the circle. Dr. O’Brien acknowledged Joan and Mary Lou with a smile. Joan took a seat next to her friend. Phil sat across from her, next to Dr. O’Brien. It wasn’t long before every chair was filled.
The conversation was friendly as they discussed their week. When there was a short lull, Joan had a question.
“Recently I had an unpleasant discussion with my son. He made a comment that brought me up short.”
Dr. O’Brien leaned toward her. “What was it, Joan?”
“Something I hadn’t thought of until recently.” As difficult as it was to admit, she’d been caught up in her own grief and had ignored her own sons’ feelings. “Nick, my younger son, was concerned that Maggie, the young woman living with me, might be taking advantage of me. Out of the blue he said if his father was alive, he would disapprove.”
“That brings up an excellent point,” Dr. O’Brien said. “Studies show us that sixty-five percent of sons after losing their fathers say it affected them more than any previous loss in their lives.”
“It isn’t only Nick,” Joan added. “I’m afraid my older son, Steve, has withdrawn from me. I feel like I’ve failed him.”
“My son had a hard time when his father passed,” Mary Lou mentioned. Her hands were tightly clasped in her lap, and Joan could see how painful it was for her friend to admit this to the group. “I wanted to help him, but I was so deep into my own grief, I wasn’t much help. He started drinking heavily and ended up with a DUI.” She hung her head as though ashamed, as if her lack of awareness had caused her son to falter.
“You can’t accept blame for your son’s behavior,” Phil said.
“Phil’s right,” Dr. O’Brien added. “Let me ask you a question. What was Mike’s relationship with his father before his death?”
“Not so good. Dennis was a great father, but when Mike was in his teen years, the two repeatedly clashed. For the last part they tended to avoid each other.”
“It’s understandable that a son who had a negativerelationship with his father would be left with regrets, guilt, and anger, feelings that can linger for years unless addressed.”
“What can I do for Mike?” Mary Lou asked, her tone pleading.
“Talk to him, ask him to consider getting counseling.”
“I will,” Mary Lou said, and then, looking to Joan, she added, “I appreciate you bringing up your son, Joan. I’ve been hesitant to mention Mike, but you addressing how your relationship has suffered gave me the courage to speak up.”
“I don’t mean to change the subject here, but I’ve got a problem,” Glenn said. “Something is wrong with me.” Glenn appeared to be in his mid-sixties, possibly early seventies. “Lucy always did the shopping, so getting groceries is a whole new experience for me. I made the mistake of going to Costco and came out with a case of sardines and an inflatable unicorn.”
“You must have a fondness for sardines,” Sally said.
Glenn shook his head. “Hate ’em, Lucy was the one who liked sardines. She used to put them on a peanut-butter sandwich. I thought it was disgusting, and here I was purchasing an entire case.”
“Why do you suppose you did that?” Dr. O’Brien asked.
Glenn lowered his head and didn’t answer for a couple painful moments. “I suppose that was my twisted way of admitting how much I miss my wife. I’ve always been my own man. I put on a good front after Lucy died, and I expect the only one I fooled was me.”
Joan could identify. After Jared died, she made his favorite dinner—turkey meatloaf—when she much preferred beef over turkey. At the time, she knew what she was doing and that it would likely end up in the garbage can. It was wasteful, and she’d done it because it made her feel a connection with her deadhusband. Silly. Ridiculous. Yet at the time completely necessary for her mental health.
