Enough to Miss Christmas

"You said you pretty much stayed away from your mother for twenty years?"

"I don't do infirmities well."

"Ah. Perhaps that's why you stayed away from your mother."

"You're supposed to be helping me, Doctor, not reminding me of why I'm here."

"I'm no miracle worker. You have to do this yourself, Sarah Jeanne. I'm just a conduit to help. I'm pleased you're taking the initiative to seek help."

"I don't do infirmities very well, doctor, physical or mental ones, so if you have an accelerated program to get this monkey off my back, I'd appreciate it."

"Sarah Jeanne, I observe with some of my patients, they come to me, ostensibly with one problem, but with quite another; one that they really want to discuss but aren't quite ready to bring out in the open. Do you understand?"

"Sure." I said a little too quickly, "my problem isn't big enough and you're hustling more business." Then I smiled. "I'm sorry. That was tacky. I have a smart mouth when I'm nervous."

"You certainly say what's on your mind, don't you!".

"I guess so. I'm sorry. But really, doctor, there isn't any hidden agenda. I'm just having trouble dealing with the way I treated a loving, caring mother the last years of her life. Period. I'm looking for some direction."

"So you think this guilt was brought on by her recent death?"

I threw up my hands. "You tell me? I've felt guilty for years but finally seeing her helped alleviate the feeling, somewhat at least. When she died, the guilt came rolling back like a runaway cart. I have a new family and we're doing a lot of the things my family did together. I'm constantly reminded whereas before I married, I was far away, in anything but a family situation. Whatever the reason, the guilt hangs around like a black cloud. That's why I'm here."

"We all carry some guilt over our past actions, especially when the injured party is no longer available to forgive us. Tell me exactly how it's affecting your life."

"It's on my mind, not constantly, but for more of the time than I can spare, like a chore hanging out there waiting to be fixed, or paid for, like a pending bill. I don't have an excess of patience, especially with mental infirmities."

"Is that what you think you have; a mental infirmity?"

"Doctor, I don't know what the hell I have; I just want it to go away!" Thus began what would be our every Wednesday session.

It was past lunch time when my session with ended, but Dr. Mason wanted to review his notes so I agreed to return at two o'clock. Paul remained home from work to be with Timmy, and be close by if needed. I called Karen at home and asked her to meet me at a local café for lunch.