Here at Last (22 page)

Both
Neelie
and Rhonda had
offered to
fly out and
attend my first bereavement group meeting with me
, but I told them that I’d rather go alone. I had planned to sit quietly for the duration
of only one meeting
before returning home and telling them that I’d tried
but that it hadn’t helped
.

I pulled up in the
parking lot behind
a community center
.
As I got out of the car and began to walk toward the rear entrance of the building, someone called my name. “
Sophia
?”

I turned and saw
Nicholas
walking toward me.
I hadn’t thought of him in a long time and tried to remember the last time we’d seen one another. Almost eighteen months?

“Hi,” I said flatly.

“Hi,” he said
looking concerned
. “Are you here for the bereavement group?”

I simply nodded and looked
down as we walked
together
.

“First time?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he said
gently
. “It’s this way.”

I followed
him
through a heavy metal door, along a poorly lit hallway, and down
a long flight of
concrete stairs. As we reached the base of the stairs, I saw a set of double doors straight ahead. Feeling a little intimidated, I slowed down
, and he
turned around.

“It’s okay
,” he said reassuringly
.
“
It’s a small group.
They helped me get through the worst of it
.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

W
hen we reached
the door, he held it open
, and
I walked through
and simply nodded my thanks
. The room wasn’t well lit,
and I was grateful for that
since I hoped to blend into the surroundings
.
The
twelve
seats were arranged in a circle, and most were taken already. I sat down
facing the door
, and
Nicholas
found a seat
across from me. They were just getting ready to
begin
.

Charlotte
introduced herself and
welcomed everyone. “I see
that
we have a lot of the usual suspects here,”
she said,
and several people chuckled.
She looked at me, “You haven’t been here before.
Would you like to
introduce yourself
?”

"I'm
Sophia
."

"Welcome
to the bereavement group
,
Sophia
,” she said.

“Thank you
.
” I looked down at my hands.

Because I was new,
Charlotte
provided a bit of introductory context for me. She told me that we
would
only use
people’s
first names in order to protect
everyone’s
privacy. She also told me
that
whatever any of us said would remain confidential. None of it would be shared outside of
this
room
or discussed with anyone who wasn’t present
.

A
large man
in his mid-50s
started
us off. H
e
continued to
stru
ggle
with
the death of his
wife
, who
had passed away the previous year.
A woman discussed losing her son to a drug overdose. Someone else talked about having lost a sibling to suicide.
The thing that everyone seemed to be
grapp
ling with was the
massive
hole
that had been
left by those who had died. Some
carried with them
a sense of guilt
and felt
that
they hadn't done enough to
keep their
loved
ones from harm. The words "if only
" came up time and again.

There was a lot of laughter as well. Clearly,
many of
the members of
this group had mourned together for a while. They found some humor in their own struggles a
nd losses
and had found a way to move on with their lives
d
espite feeling that part of them was
gone
forever
.

One woman, whom I'll call Pamela, talked about losing her fiancé six months prior. As she described her intense feeling of loss and explained that she felt as if her future
had
disappeared
in an instant
, I felt something on my hand. When I looked down, I saw
a
second tear fall. These were the first tears in three months. In fact, I didn't remember the last time I had cried in my
entire
life.

I reached for my purs
e and fumbled around for
a
tissue
but
didn’t have
one. Someone nudged my arm and handed me a
Kleenex box
. I pulled out
a tissue
and blew my nose.

“
Sophia
?"
Charlotte
asked. "Is there something you want to
share with the group
?"

I shook my head.
"No." As t
he tears continued to
fall
,
I realized that my chest was tight, and
I began to feel like I was hyperventilating.

"
Sophia
?"

My body
began to
sh
a
k
e as
I cried quietly
, and I put my hands over my face
.

“
Sophia
?"
Nicholas
said
,
again
, squatting down in front of me
. "Do you need some air?"

I nodded
, and h
e supported my arm while I
picked up my purse and
stood.

"
Nicholas
?"
Charlotte
looked
confused
.

"It’s okay,”
he
said
.
“
She's a friend.” When I looked up at him, his eyes bore directly into
me
, and he said
with a
tender
smile
, "I've known her for very long time."

We
left
together, making our way up the stairs and
down
the long hallway until we were back outside in the sunshine.
He knew that I wasn't in any shape to drive so suggested that he take me back to his townhouse for a little while until I felt better. Then, he would
return
me to my car, and I could drive home.

When
I entered the foyer,
Nicholas
carried
my purse
into the living room and
put it on
the coffee table
. He grabbed a box of tissues and
placed
it on
the
arm of the
sofa
while
I sat down
. Then, he settled
in
beside me
and
handed me a tissue
.
I dabbed at my eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head. "I can't."

Very gently, he put
his arm around my shoulder and pulled me to
ward
him.
W
hen
he wrapped his other arm around me,
I cried into his chest until
his shirt was wet and there were
no tears
left
.

“JT?" he asked
quietly
.

All I could do was nod.

"
You started seeing each other after the
holiday
party?”

Another
nod.

“When did you lose him?" he asked softly.

“Three months ago
,
"
I choked.

"And
you hadn’t cried until tonight.
”

I
sat up and
look
ed
at him
, s
niffling
.
"How did you know that?"

He smiled
tenderly
as he looked into my face. “
Because you looked sur
prised when the first tear
f
ell."

I laughed a little. "I was.
You saw that?
"

He
nodded.
"
Most
people can't stop crying,
but
a few
never start."

“Which were you?" I asked.

He smiled. "The former,
”
he said, thinking for a moment,
"
e
xcept when Hannah was around. I never cried in front of her
– a
t least, not that she saw."

"This totally sucks."

He laughed
a little
.
“Yeah. It does.”

“When does it start feeling
better
?”

He became a little more somber. “After the firsts
– t
he first birthday, the first
Passover or
Christmas or Hanukkah or
New Year
. It gets easier after the firsts. Even the people who ha
d
the worst relationships still
struggle. And the ones who had
the best?
It’s hardest for them
– especially if they had their whole lives
ahead
of them.”

I nodded and leaned my head back against the sofa, closing my eyes.

“Why don’t you lie down for a little while?" he asked.

I looked around. "Where's Hannah?"

“She's spending the night at a friend’s house."

“How old is she now?" I asked
before blowing
my nose
.

“Five,” he smiled.

He got up from the sofa
and put a small pillow at one end. As
I lay
down
, h
e covered me with a pink and purple Dora the Explorer
throw. “Sorry," he apologized.

I smiled a little. "If Dora’s good enough for Hannah, she's good enough for me."

He went into the kitchen to make dinner, and I fell asleep
and
was awakened when my phone rang about an hour later. A little discombobulated, it took me a moment to figure out where I was.
Nicholas
had been
sitting
i
n a chair across from the sofa
and was working on his laptop
computer
. He picked up my purse and handed it to me
over the table
. As usual, I found my
cell phone
in the bottom and answered
it
on the fourth ring.
It was Neelie.

“
Hi.
”

“Hey, girlfriend,”
Neelie
said gently.
“How di
d it go?”

"
Not well
," I told her.

“What happened?" She sounded concerned.

I glanced over a
t
Nicholas
, who was trying not to
listen
. “I cried like a baby
and had
to leave early."

“Oh,
H
oney,
I
’m
so sorry. I should've
flown out so I could be there
with you.”