A Decision Based On Love Read online

  Chapter 8

  Marci spent the first weeks after the funeral with her family. She lived in her old bedroom and spent the days in a trance like state, caring for Eli but never really responding or conversing with anyone else. Her mom did the shopping and the cooking and with a little coaxing they got Marci to eat, if only so she could continue to nurse Eli. Her parents worried that she was suffering from depression because she slept 14-16 hours a day and looked exhausted and haunted all of the time. Family members offered to take Eli to the park or out for awhile so she could be alone but she refused to let Eli out of her sight. Somewhere along the course of the last week Marci had developed the irrational fear that Eli was in danger and something terrible was going to happen to him too. She kept him close to her side all day and slept with him at night. She was consumed with caring for him, playing with him and being the perfect mother. If she spent all of her limited energy on Eli then she didn't have the energy to think about the rest of her long, lonely life without Mark.

  When she slept she dreamed of Mark and his breathtaking smile. She dreamed of his hearty laugh and his strong fingers playing the piano as he sung an old 80's song to her. She dreamed of their tropical honeymoon, laughing on the beach and walking in the sunset. She dreamed of Eli's birth and their last day together. When she woke it was always the same. Her cheeks were wet with tears and the bed was cold beside her. She would hold Eli and caress his soft hair and try to tell herself that things would be alright, when she knew in her heart they never would.

  Every day her parents expected her to start participating in life more but she kept withdrawing further and further into a shell of self absorption. She was with Eli but she was often distracted, just staring at the wall or the bookcase.

  A part of Marci wanted to get back to her house but the reality of her life was still so overwhelming that she was paralyzed to make the move. The home she shared with Mark was full of memories, pictures, and things that reminded Marci of the beautiful life they had planned together. Though she loved her home she was afraid of the flood of emotions that would accompany her return.

  After weeks of watching her recede further and further into herself, Marci parents were beginning to worry. They didn't know enough about the grieving process to know what to expect and how to help. They tentatively suggested that perhaps a professional could help her to cope a little better. Marci just shrugged at the idea.

  A sort of breakthrough came when Marci needed more clothes from home. Her family had been running the errands back and forth if they needed anything but Marci decided if she was ever going to be able to live in her home again she needed to find out how comfortable she was there. Her parents drove and for the first time since she got the initial phone call, Marci went back to her home. Her quaint little 3-bedroom home with the big back yard and the orange tree was the home she and Mark had picked out as their starter home and where they hoped to raise their children. Her breath caught in her throat when they rounded the corner of her street and she steeled herself against the onslaught of emotions. Her parents offered to go in with her, but Marci wanted to go alone. She unlocked the front door with shaking fingers and walked towards the master bedroom where her clothing was kept. The walls were lined with pictures of a smiling, happy couple in wedding attire, with snorkels and with a new baby. She tried not to look at them, at least not yet. She made it to the master bedroom and stood in the doorway. Her hand flew to her mouth. Mark's running shoes sat beside the bed where he had left them. They were just sitting there waiting for Mark to return, but he never would. His leather jacket was thrown over the chair and she instinctively picked it up and held it to her face. She breathed in his scent in the leather.

  Her parents waited in the car for about 15 minutes, and then they started to worry. They thought she may just need some time so they waited another 30 before they got out of the car and came into the house. They found her with little difficulty. She was curled up on the floor of the master bedroom closet, heaving great gulping sobs with Mark's leather coat clutched in her hands. The wracking sobs came from somewhere so deep her stomach muscles clenched. She fought to catch a breath in between. Her father knelt beside her and gently rocked his daughter. Her parents exchanged a look that said “This is enough. It's time to get some help.”

  They took Marci home, put her to bed, and called the doctor. She had an appointment early the next day. She was reluctant to go, but even Marci realized there was something wrong with her and she needed help. She wanted to try to stay away from medication if at all possible because she was nursing Eli, but she knew she couldn't continue on this path.

  The female therapist was kind, patient and non judgmental. Her name was Maddy and she had understanding eyes. She reminded Marci of Shari and her mother in law had always been easy to talk too. Maddy specialized in grief counseling and as Marci looked carefully at the lines in her face and the sorrow behind the eyes she knew that Maddy knew a thing or two about pain and loss. She was friendly and encouraging and Marci began to open up slowly about the things she was feeling.

  “I'm afraid to feel anything because it hurts so much,” she explained. “If I could just put all my emotions on hold for a few months until I can deal with them I'm sure they wouldn't be so painful.”

  “What emotions are those Marci,” the therapist asked?

  “Sadness, loneliness, unbelievable pain,” she paused and looked away guiltily. “Maybe some betrayal, confusion and a little anger. I'm not sure I don't even resent Tyson for living. How can I deal with those feelings when I can barely get up in the morning?”

  “One step at a time Marci,” the therapist whispered. “We'll get through one emotion at a time.” She leaned closer to Marci and took her by the hands. There was so much kindness in her voice, Marci couldn't help but be affected.

  “Marci, there is no right or wrong way to experience grief. Nothing you are feeling is wrong. There are no emotions you should feel or none you should try to suppress. Each can be dealt with and processed and you will be stronger and I promise you, someday you will be able to smile again.”

  Marci was doubtful, but Maddy's optimism was contagious and she felt a tiny little thread of hope course through her.

  The first session they just talked about what happened and about Mark. Maddy asked about moments of joy, Eli, and life experiences and rarely made comments except to smile, nod her head in encouragement and make a few notes in her notebook. At the end of the hour Marci was physically drained when Maddy stood and casually commented, “What a blessing to have such a wonderful man in your life, if only for a short time.”

  At first Marci was taken aback slightly, “How could her life be in any way considered a blessing at this point?” It angered her little that Maddy would say such a thing. The words hung on the edge of her consciousness for hours; even days afterward and Marci began to acknowledge their validity. She really was fortunate to have had Mark. She had known years of the most sublime kind of joy human beings can ever experience and that was one of the reasons it had been so hard to lose. She had dozens of friends who had never found anyone who made their heart sing with joy like Mark had hers, and some that had married and never found the joy in their relationships like Marci had with Mark. Maybe she had been blessed to have him. She tried to adjust her thinking from despair to gratitude for the time she'd had with him, but telling yourself to feel one way and being able to manufacture it were too very different things. For the first time though, the thought had entered her mind and that had to be some sort of positive turn.

  Marci worked with Maddy every few days and she looked forward to the sessions. They talked about loneliness and some alternatives to carrying the burden alone. Marci decided to start taking Eli to the park and a few fun classes and try to make friends with other young mothers so she and Eli could have a few play dates. It might be almost easier to form new friendships where people didn't know Mark and the way Marci was before his death. She knew she always had her f
amily there for support and that was wonderful but they often seemed to be feeling sorry for her and censoring almost everything they said. There was her friendship with her sister in law Liz, but Marci wasn't ready to face her feelings about Tyson yet, and she wasn't sure her resentment didn't include Liz too. After all, Liz still had her wonderful husband and Marci didn't. A new friend might be worth pursuing. As was her trademark, Maddy ended every session with a little comment that often left Liz thinking and reevaluating for days. This week as Marci left Maddy said, “I know you'll find more friends as you realize what it takes to BE a friend.” Marci spent the next several days wondering if she'd been too self-absorbed and what it would take to be someone's friend. She wasn't sure she had the strength to try, but something inside propelled her to believe that what she needed was to spend some effort in an attempt to befriend someone else and see what happened.

  Marci and Maddy talked about the pain, the anger and the sense of betrayal. Maddy thought they were probably all tied up together. As they discussed the day of the accident, Marci's voice radiated frustration and even confusion. Clearly, she had a lot of questions.

  “Marci, do you keep a journal?” Maddy asked.

  “No, not really since high school. Just highlights from my life now and then. Nothing regular.”

  “Do you think it might add some clarification for you to write about your feelings and frustrations?”

  Marci hesitated, “I don't know. It seems like it might be too painful to deal with them all at once. I suppose if you thought it would help I could try.”

  “I think it might help. Instead of writing in a journal you could write a letter. A letter to Mark explaining how you feel and then if you never want anyone to read it you could tear it up.”

  Marci was doubtful but once again the idea swirled around in her head for a few days until she was ready to give it a try. She put Eli to bed one night and sat at the old desk in her room. She started to write. She started out tentative and then the words just seemed to tumble out.

  Dear Mark,

  I miss you so much. I miss everything about you. I miss the way your eyes laugh, the dimple in your cheek. I miss your big strong hands playing the piano or wrapping around Eli's little hand. I miss watching you toss him in the air and rock him to sleep. I miss the feel of your skin and the touch of your hand and I miss your voice. The way you sing to Eli when he's cranky, or the way you sing softly in my ear while we are dancing. I miss how smart you are and how funny you are and I miss the date ideas you used to come up with. I miss laughing with you and singing with you and loving you. Mostly though, I miss your smile. It filled your face when you saw me and it lit up my world. No one has ever responded to me like you do and no one will ever make me feel loved like you do. How could you leave me Mark? You had a choice. You chose to let me raise our baby alone. How am I going to teach him? How am I going to smile and laugh with him when I don't ever want to smile and laugh again? How am I ever going to live my life without any love in it? Is your memory supposed to keep me warm at night and help me solve problems and raise a child? Most importantly, how am I ever going to forgive you for leaving me? I'm so angry at you right now. My life was perfect. You were perfect and we had so much to live for. Why Mark? I know you loved her but she wanted you to leave. Why couldn't you leave? Reach though the darkness and help me understand. Oh Mark, I love you so much. I can't comprehend never seeing you again. I gave you my heart and trusted you with it and now it's shattered into a million tiny pieces, and it can never be whole again. If you can, send me a message. Let me know you love me. I want to heal Mark, but I'm afraid I never will. Love Marci

  Marci finished the letter, folded it and put it in an envelope, because that's what you do with letters. Then she smiled at herself. “Where exactly do I think I'm going to mail this?” The letter had taken nearly an hour to write and her energy was spent. She stood to work out the stiff muscles and went for a short walk in the cool evening air. With her head down she wasn't looking where she was going, just focusing on the sidewalk in front of her. Suddenly, there it was. It was lying right in front of her on the ground. A shiny, new penny sat waiting for her to pick it up. Her indrawn breath was sharp and she stood in awe staring at the penny.

  On their first date, they had been walking to the car when Mark suddenly reached down, picked up a penny on the ground and quoted, “Find a penny, pick it up, all day long you'll have good luck.” She had laughed at the time at the childhood rhyme. Mark had feigned offense. “I happen to know that is an absolutely prophetic rhyme and I'll prove it to you. This will be the luckiest first date of your life.” Mark had continued throughout the evening to point out all of the fortunate things that kept happening. It made Marci smile. A year later when he proposed he gave her a ring box and told her that first date had been the luckiest day of his life because it was the day he met her. He wanted to spend every day for the rest of his life with her. When she opened the ring box the original penny lay cradled beside the diamond. Marci had been thrilled and touched and crazy in love. The penny still lay in her jewelry box. It had become a symbol of the good fortune they had in finding each other. When they traveled they always found a place that pressed penny's into souvenir tokens. Now she was staring down onto the sidewalk at a shiny new penny. Reverently, she bent and picked it up and cradled it in her hands. “Is that you Mark? Are you trying to tell me something?” She closed her eyes and lifted her face toward heaven. Maybe it was just desperation in her mind and maybe it was coincidence but a wind ruffled the trees and a calm feeling of love settled over the sad woman, standing on the sidewalk, holding a penny.