Plans were made for Karen and me to spend an overnight in my old homestead two weekends from now. Maureen promised before she left, to drive over to Connecticut for a day trip while we visited. This was Karen's choice over a Boston weekend and Red Sox game that Timmy and his dad planned for the coming weekend, the last game of the season. She considered baseball a silly game compared to her new found love, soccer. Timmy needed some Dad time alone.

On one of my earlier visits, Dr. Mason had zeroed in on my relationship with my dad.

"Tell me more about your father," he'd said. "We seem to neglect him and concentrate on your Mom."

"Dad was the greatest," I replied. "He was always there for me; for us. We talked all the time. Talking was our entertainment. My father considered a good argument the best sport going. Only he wouldn't admit that's what it was. To him, it was a 'discussion'. He'd take the opposite side of any subject, just to keep us kids sharp."

"Your father sounds like quite a guy."

"Both of my parents were great. We were their life and they were each other's life. My parents weren't hermits by any means or anti-social, but they had few outside friends. We were each other's friends and confidants. That's why it was so difficult when he died and the family group was shattered."

"Shattered; a harsh description."

I shrugged. "It was never the same from the moment of his death. My mother sank into depression, Suzie married and had a baby, I ran off with a jerk; our perfect little family disintegrated."

"So your father was the one who held the family together."

I thought about that. "I don't know that it would have been any better if my mother had died suddenly. I'm sure he wouldn't have coped much better than she did."

"I can see how family is so important to you."

Karen and I are much closer now, sharing secrets and talking easily about many subjects including Dr. Mason and our visits. The only taboo is her mother and I'm leaving that up to the doctor to dig out of her. As we tackled a pile of dried clothes one Saturday, the subject of family was still on my mind and I told her of my recent session with the doctor.

I led her to the love chair. "Do you miss your real mother?" I was surprised when she suddenly began to cry.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that. I know you miss her a lot." I pulled her close. She answered, almost inaudibly.




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