The next few days passed in a blur as I tried to deal with the sudden death of my mother. She must have died as soon as we'd left her room and I couldn't help wondering if something I said or did hurried her demise. I knew in my heart the thought was foolish but it wouldn't disappear. Paul cancelled his business meetings and we would return to Connecticut the next day. My husband was very kind, to both of us as Karen grieved as much as I. We tried to console each other but little we said helped. On that first evening she came to our room, turned out the light and we huddled together in the love chair. Karen cried quietly, unable to stop. Her overwhelming sadness tortured me as much as my mother's passing.
I slept little that night and I heard Karen thrashing around in her room as I roamed the hall. I knocked softly and she unlocked her door. I went in and sat down beside her.
"What can I do?" she asked, still sobbing.
"Write it all down, honey. Write just how you feel. It will be yours and yours alone. Your memories."
Paul expressed concern for both of us, especially for Karen.
"I'm worried," he said as he led me to bed. "She didn't display this much grief when her mother died."
"She felt very fondly for my mother," I answered. "We were the last to see her and her death was a shock; to both of us. We were practically there at the time."
"Karen was there when Carol died."
I was surprised. While Paul never discussed his wife's death nor had I asked, I'd assumed she died in a hospital, slowly succumbing to her disease. "She died at home?" I asked.
"In her bed. Karen was outside playing."
"The two of you never talked about it?"
"I tried but Karen didn't want to discuss it. She shut out the entire incident. The doctor said it was her way of dealing with it, and I went along. We all knew Carol was terminally ill so her death wasn't unexpected. Karen handled it well." Then he added, "especially since you've been around. You know she adores you in spite of testing her feelings."
I was pleased with my husband's comments, but I doubted his evaluation of how well Karen coped with her mother's death. However, at present I had heartache enough on my own plate.
The four of us traveled to Connecticut where we joined Suzie and her family. They were returning from their shortened Cape Cod vacation. Karen lapsed into silence, responding only where politeness dictated an acknowledgment. She'd taken my advice and scribbled away in her diary. Timmy, on the other hand, asked a myriad of questions in spite of his confusion when anyone displayed grief. While he understood that this elderly woman he'd met but once was now in heaven, he wasn't clear on the details.