The irony of it hit me as I sat in his office waiting for our session to begin. I must have been smiling when he entered because he smiled back and asked what was so funny.
"I guess I was wondering just what I'm doing here. Several million women would swap everything they own to trade places with me and my life. It makes me feel like a mental hypochondriac."
"Regardless of the reason, it's nice to see you smile." I didn't answer. "You know Sarah Jeanne, what's happening to you isn't that uncommon. It just should have occurred years ago."
I didn't have an answer but I knew my blue moods as I called them swirled around the dynamics of my growing up years and those I was recreating for my suddenly acquired children. I had managed to change their life in Newton in a few short weeks and I was proud as punch at my accomplishments. But in doing so I constantly resurrected long forgotten happy memories, reminding me of what I had abandoned when I deserted my family.
The doctor let me know he was disappointed Karen would not discuss her relationship with her mother in other than brief snippets or a one word answer and only if the doctor asked a direct question.
"She admits to spending long hours at her mother's bedside. When I ask her reason, she'll shrug and simply says she was her mother. If I ask what she does during those sessions, she only admits to holding her hand and brushing her hair. Her demeanor indicates the subject is distressing to her."
He was content to give the matter time. Karen displayed no such reserve in discussing her present life, a topic she spoke of enthusiastically. I told him I too was blocked out from any conversation with my daughter about my predecessor.
All in all, I had no problems with my Wednesday sessions, nor did I experience any dread in attending them. Our meetings were low key and I didn't feel especially threatened talking to the man. One of my complaints was keeping Dr. Mason from going off on the wrong track. In an early meeting he inquired about my first marriage, saying he understood I was a widow. I didn't recall telling him about Doug and wondered if Karen had. He asked if mine was a happy marriage. I answered a bit too testily.
"No. My first husband was a liar and philanderer. Our marriage was a sham. While I can't say the day Doug died was the happiest day of my life, in retrospect his passing was the best thing that ever happened to me. It freed me to begin living for the first time in fifteen years. And before you ask, no, I don't want to discuss that stage of my life. It's not pertinent to the problem I'm here to address."