it back together again, and I think we remind each other too much of the bad times. Just seeing her or hearing her voice brings it all back, and I probably do the same for her. We talk on the phone occasionally, but I don’t visit her, and she doesn’t come to New York. It’s better this way. After thirty years of loss and pain, it’s too late to fix it. But I have to say, she taught me how to be a mother. I have never seen anyone give and do so much, or try so hard, as she did with my sister. I hope nothing like it ever happens to us, but if it does, I hope I can be like her. Everyone talked about what a great mother she was.” There were tears in her eyes as she said it and Cathy’s heart went out to her.
“You’re a wonderful mother, Zoe,” Cathy said sincerely, “the best one I’ve ever seen in my practice. You’re always right there for Jaime. And let’s face it, she is a handful. She is curious and active, into everything. I know she’s had some mishaps, but I think she would have had many more if it weren’t for you. I know you do everything you can to keep her safe,” including asking for testing for leukemia, although there was no sign of a problem. But Cathy could understand why now. “Normally, I’d discourage you from the testing you want for Jaime. As a physician, I can’t justify it. But as your friend, I want to help you put your fears to rest. I’ll give the lab an order for the tests, and then promise me you’ll try not to think about it again. She’s not your little sister. She’s a healthy little girl with her whole life ahead of her. Try to believe that.” Zoe smiled at her through tears, and was immeasurably grateful.
“I lie awake at night, terrified that lightning is going to strike us, like it did my family all those years ago. We all died in a way when Rose did, and it killed my parents’ marriage. My father hung around for two years waiting for my mother to get better, she never did, and I guess he couldn’t take it anymore. He left and married Pam a year later, that was the final blow for my mother. She sank even lower after that.”
“I assume you all had therapy to get through it.” She was shocked when Zoe shook her head.
“No, only my father did. He married his first therapist. Pam. She’s a nice woman. I never let myself get close to her once they were married, it upset my mom too much, so I hardly ever saw them. And they had two more kids. My mother refused to go to therapy with my father, which was why he left. He wanted them to try to recover, and my mother said she just couldn’t. And they never suggested any therapy for me. I was ten when Rose died, and by the time my mom was halfway sane again, I was in my rebellious teenage years. I’m not even sure they thought of therapy for me. They were both so wrecked after it happened, they never talked to each other or to me. The ship had gone down, and it was every man for himself. My father got out, my mother was underwater for a long time, and I just paddled along on my own, trying not to drown.”
“Did you seek therapy later on, as an adult?” Cathy had never dared to ask her these questions, but somehow in her office she felt she could, even though they were there to talk about Jaime, not about her. But they were also friends, which made it permissible in her dual role.
“I never saw the need,” Zoe answered quietly. “Eventually, I went to college. I got my life on track. Then I was busy in medical school, and came to New York after that. I was working, I met Austin, we got married and had Jaime, and now here we are. We’re happy, we get along, and Rose is a distant memory now. There’s not much left to say.”
“You had a tough childhood, Zoe, and a lonely one it sounds like. A brutal shock when Rose died. That was a lot for a kid that age to sort out, and even later, the divorce. You must have felt abandoned