make things better for you. Oh God, I wish it had been me who died and not Cindy!”
Gail’s fingers shot to her daughter’s mouth. “No, no, darling, don’t ever say things like that! Don’t even think them!”
“I saw your face that afternoon when you came home and saw that I was there and Cindy wasn’t. I know that you wished it was me who was dead … I even understand … She was your baby …”
“Oh my God,” Gail cried, “is that what you’ve been living with all these weeks? It’s not true. I swear to you. It’s not true. I love you. I love you more than anything in the world.”
She threw her arms around her sobbing youngster, Jennifer’s arms immediately wrapping themselves around her mother.
“Oh, I love you so much, my beautiful girl. I do. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize what you’ve been going through. Ithought you just didn’t want to talk about your sister, that it made you uncomfortable.”
“I was mean to her, Mom,” Jennifer cried.
“What are you talking about?” Gail asked, her tears now falling in a steady rhythm, making no move to wipe them away.
“She was pestering me when I was trying to study and I told her to get out of my room.” Jennifer’s whole body was trembling. “And once she came in and was trying on all my shoes, and I yelled at her to stop and told her that she’d made a mess and that she’d have to clean it all up, and I yelled at her until she cried. And another time I found her in my purse and she’d put on my lipstick and she had it all over her face, and I told her that she looked stupid and that she was ugly. Oh God, Mom, why was I so mean?”
Gail’s hands ran frantically through her daughter’s hair, smoothing down the sides. “You weren’t mean to her. You were the best big sister any little girl could have asked for. Do you hear me?” Jennifer nodded. “And just because you yelled at her a few times when she did something wrong or because she just plain got on your nerves, don’t you blame yourself for that. It’s natural. We all do things like that. What’s important is how you really felt about her.”
“I really loved her,” Jennifer whimpered.
“I know you did,” Gail cried. “And what’s more important, Cindy knew you did. And she loved you. Very, very much.”
Gail buried her head in her daughter’s hair and continued to cry. When Jack walked through the door a half hour later, she was still crying, and both he and Carol looked noticeably relieved, as she was sure her parents looked when her sister phoned them later that evening. Gail was going to be all right, she heard Carol telling them. She had cried. And then she started crying every day, and everyone began worrying again.
NINE
“P eople keep expecting you to get over it,” the woman was saying softly. “They keep expecting you to come around eventually, to become your old self again. They don’t understand when you tell them your old self is dead. They think you’re wallowing in self-pity; they think you’ll get over it in time. Then time passes, a lot of time, maybe years, and they begin to get impatient. They start to think you’ve gone a little crazy. It’s one thing to grieve, they tell you, as if they could possibly understand, but it’s not normal to let it consume you. You try to explain that what happened to you
isn’t
normal, and they tell you that life goes on. And you nod and agree. What else can you do? If there’s one thing you’ve learned, it’s that life goes on.” She laughed in sharp, bitter acknowledgment of the fact.
The woman was barely five feet tall and couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds. Her hair was several shades of blond; her mascara was smeared and running in a watery black line down the length of her cheek as she spoke. Her voice came in whispered waves. Though she spoke to everyone in the room, it was clear she spoke to no one but herself. Though there were ten other people around her, she was un
Gail’s fingers shot to her daughter’s mouth. “No, no, darling, don’t ever say things like that! Don’t even think them!”
“I saw your face that afternoon when you came home and saw that I was there and Cindy wasn’t. I know that you wished it was me who was dead … I even understand … She was your baby …”
“Oh my God,” Gail cried, “is that what you’ve been living with all these weeks? It’s not true. I swear to you. It’s not true. I love you. I love you more than anything in the world.”
She threw her arms around her sobbing youngster, Jennifer’s arms immediately wrapping themselves around her mother.
“Oh, I love you so much, my beautiful girl. I do. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize what you’ve been going through. Ithought you just didn’t want to talk about your sister, that it made you uncomfortable.”
“I was mean to her, Mom,” Jennifer cried.
“What are you talking about?” Gail asked, her tears now falling in a steady rhythm, making no move to wipe them away.
“She was pestering me when I was trying to study and I told her to get out of my room.” Jennifer’s whole body was trembling. “And once she came in and was trying on all my shoes, and I yelled at her to stop and told her that she’d made a mess and that she’d have to clean it all up, and I yelled at her until she cried. And another time I found her in my purse and she’d put on my lipstick and she had it all over her face, and I told her that she looked stupid and that she was ugly. Oh God, Mom, why was I so mean?”
Gail’s hands ran frantically through her daughter’s hair, smoothing down the sides. “You weren’t mean to her. You were the best big sister any little girl could have asked for. Do you hear me?” Jennifer nodded. “And just because you yelled at her a few times when she did something wrong or because she just plain got on your nerves, don’t you blame yourself for that. It’s natural. We all do things like that. What’s important is how you really felt about her.”
“I really loved her,” Jennifer whimpered.
“I know you did,” Gail cried. “And what’s more important, Cindy knew you did. And she loved you. Very, very much.”
Gail buried her head in her daughter’s hair and continued to cry. When Jack walked through the door a half hour later, she was still crying, and both he and Carol looked noticeably relieved, as she was sure her parents looked when her sister phoned them later that evening. Gail was going to be all right, she heard Carol telling them. She had cried. And then she started crying every day, and everyone began worrying again.
NINE
“P eople keep expecting you to get over it,” the woman was saying softly. “They keep expecting you to come around eventually, to become your old self again. They don’t understand when you tell them your old self is dead. They think you’re wallowing in self-pity; they think you’ll get over it in time. Then time passes, a lot of time, maybe years, and they begin to get impatient. They start to think you’ve gone a little crazy. It’s one thing to grieve, they tell you, as if they could possibly understand, but it’s not normal to let it consume you. You try to explain that what happened to you
isn’t
normal, and they tell you that life goes on. And you nod and agree. What else can you do? If there’s one thing you’ve learned, it’s that life goes on.” She laughed in sharp, bitter acknowledgment of the fact.
The woman was barely five feet tall and couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds. Her hair was several shades of blond; her mascara was smeared and running in a watery black line down the length of her cheek as she spoke. Her voice came in whispered waves. Though she spoke to everyone in the room, it was clear she spoke to no one but herself. Though there were ten other people around her, she was un
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