"I know I'm supposed to."
I wasn't sure how to respond. "Karen, there's nothing wrong with that. You lived with her sickness and death. You endured a lot of pressure for someone your age. I'm sure you miss the mother she was, before she became ill."
"I hardly remember her when she wasn't sick."
"Time has a way of fading memories. It's like that with Doug. We lived as man and wife for fifteen years and yet I have trouble remembering much of anything. It all blends together."
"If he hadn't been killed, you never would have met my dad."
"That's true. Life is strange, isn't it? If your mother hadn't died, I wouldn't have met him either. Sometimes good things come out of bad things, don't they?"
She thought a minute. "If good things come out of bad things aren't we guilty if deep down we think the bad things weren't so bad after all?"
I laughed. "I think that's a little too deep for me to answer. Let's just be thankful to God for the good things and try and put the bad things behind us. Leave it up to Him to sort them all out." Karen smiled to herself and resumed folding the clothes.
"Karen, you're very intelligent. You have perceptions and understanding far beyond your years. I marvel at the questions you ask me. You're going to be a great thinker someday."
"Do you tell Dr. Mason about everything we discuss?"
"No. I talk to him, about a lot of things that swirl around in my mind and bother me. I tell him personal things I wouldn't tell almost anyone else, but I'm nowhere near as honest with him as I am with you."
My daughter was surprised. "Really?"
"Sometimes I find Dr. Mason prying."
"That's what he's supposed to do, isn't he?"
"Yes, that's his job and I'm sure he's doing it well and helping, both of us. I'm not saying we shouldn't both cooperate with him but it's more comfortable trusting you. I don't feel you're judging me."
A look of concern crossed her face. "When someone trusts you, it makes you responsible, doesn't it?"
A few days later, Karen tarried in going off to bed. I had spoken to her twice but she still lingered over whatever she was doing. Both of us were finishing long and trying days and were short of patience. Paul was in an unusually testy mood over some minor set back at work. Finally, Paul put down his paper and turned to her. "Young lady, do you want me to take off my belt again?"
"No!" she cried and scurried up the stairs to bed. I was distressed. It was as if everything we had spoken about and agreed to was violated with a careless remark.