Friday, 11th October 2013
"Are you sure you don't want me to walk in with you?" my father asked, concern laced heavily in his voice.
"Jesus Dad, is it not enough that I am going? This isn't my first day of Kindergarten, you really don't need to hold my hand. Maybe you haven't noticed but I am a big boy now, and besides, I only agreed to go because you promised me that if I gave this bullshit a shot you would get off my case and allow me to deal with things my way."
"One session, Jet, that is all I am asking of you my boy."
I climbed out of the car, slammed the door and walked towards the building opposite the road. As I got closer to the entrance a small part of me wished my dad was with me now. All of a sudden I didn't feel so grown up anymore.
You are seventeen, Jet, not nine.
My dad drove off and I considered walking to the nearest coffee house, but before I could make up my mind the door burst open and a large man blocked the entrance.
"You must be Jethro Walker," the stranger said.
I looked up at him. He had kind eyes and a goofy-looking grin.
"Just Jet," I replied.
He put his hand out, and I took it. He had large hands and a firm hand shake, but not in a dick-ish way. He was still smiling when he said, "Welcome, Just Jet. Go in, walk down the passage, it's the first door on your left. Grab something to drink and find a seat. I have left something in my car, but I will be there now."
He darted off towards his car. I was about to go in when he turned around and yelled, "I'm Gary by the way!" I nodded and walked in.
I walked down the passage and entered the room. It was big and airy, dimly lit and smelled of real wood. It reminded me of our school hall, except it had a homely feel and no stage for a principal to stand on and address everyone at a Monday assembly. To my right there was a stone fire place and just above it was a large, widescreen TV. In the middle of the room chairs huddled around a rug. I assumed that would be the area where we would sit and talk about all our depressing shit. Behind the circle of chairs was a big table surrounded by more chairs, it looked as though it could comfortably seat twelve people. Opposite the fireplace were two more tables; one for food and the other for drinks. Just to the left of the tables was a serving counter, I could see into the kitchen from there. I scanned my surroundings and took everything in. All around me were colorful bean bags haphazardly strewn across the room as if part of some great obstacle course. I hoped we didn't have to run around and play musical bean bags with each other as part of our therapy.
There were a few kids already pottering about. This was going to be hell on earth. I headed towards the tables that held the refreshments. They seemed to cater for all sorts here; there was tea, coffee, hot chocolate, water, apple juice and coke. And these were just my beverage options. On the other side of the table was an array of sweet and savory treats. My stomach betrayed me with a ravenous growl. I had not realized how hungry I was. Come to think about it, I had not eaten dinner. I poured myself a glass apple juice and walked on over to table of food. I was so busy loading my plate with mini sausage rolls, that I had not noticed a young boy with curly red hair, maybe six-years-old, creep up next to me.
"Hi, my name is Colin. My sister is in heaven," he said.
"Aaahhh, hey little dude. I'm Jet. Sorry about your sister."
"Why are you here? Is your brother or sister in heaven too?"
I felt like crawling under the rug in the center of the room and hanging out with the dust mites. I did not believe in any gods, heaven or hell, but there was no way I was going to spoil this boy's belief as to where his sister was. I was also not in the mood to divulge why I was here with a kid who couldn't wipe his backside properly yet. I did not plan on sharing anything with anyone. I was just here as an observer. Nothing more, nothing less.
"Colin Andrew Deverell! You are being rude! Take a seat and I will bring your food to you."
A young girl scolded him. She had the same wild red hair as Colin did, the only difference between the two was that small, brown freckles splattered her face and his was still a blank pasty white canvas.
"What do you want to drink?" she growled at him.
"Apple juice please," Colin replied.
He left the table defeated and walked on over to his chair.
"Please excuse my brother's bad manners," the girl with the red hair said.
"Hey, don't stress. He is just curious I suppose. No harm done," I said.
"Never mind him, he always speaks before he thinks. My little brother has a knack for making newcomers feel uncomfortable, but he does grow on you, kind of like a wart. I am Hailey. Hailey Jane Deverell, pleased to meet you."
"I'm Jet, good to meet you too Hailey."
I stood there and smiled at this feisty beast of a girl who spoke like a princess born in Buckingham Palace. Her British accent made her sound wise beyond her years, and her cute face seemed to round off her entire persona. I liked her instantly.
"Don't eat the shortbread cookies, Catherine's mom bakes them for us, but they are usually stale. I imagine she makes them on a Sunday evening, leaves them in a tin to dry out and then sends them with Catherine on Friday. The chocolate brownies are divine though, my mom and I baked them. What did you bring?"
"I did not know that I had to bring anything with me."
"Well you do," she said. "If you decide to join us next week, that's if Colin has not scared you off already, bring something to eat. Gary supplies the drinks, so don't worry about those. I hope you enjoy tonight, Jet."
Before I could respond she skipped off towards the chair next to her brother. I watched as her red curls bounced merrily behind her, dancing to their own beat. Colin's little feet swung back and forth as he waited for his plate of treats his sister had dished up for him. I finished piling my plate and strolled over to a vacant chair opposite the Deverell children. I placed my juice next to the foot of my chair and stuffed my face with whatever my hands found first.
"Good evening guys and girls, please make your way to your seats, I have something special planned for you all tonight," Gary said as he placed a box under his chair. "I don't know if any of you have noticed that we have a newbie to our group, his name is Jet. If you have, I hope that you have introduced yourself to him and welcomed him with a warm heart and a happy smile."
All eyes were on me. I tried to swallow the food down quickly so I could smile at them all. I must have looked like a homeless hamster. My cheeks were so full of food my jaw hurt. This was not how I planned on being introduced to the group. I don't know why I gave a shit anyway; it was not like I was coming back, so why should it matter?
"Who would like to speak first? Do I have any takers besides Hailey? She usually kicks off our meetings, maybe someone else would like a turn?" Gary asked as he looked around at the group, but no one seemed keen on taking Hailey's place. "Okay Hailey, I guess the floor is yours my girl, take it away."
"Hi my name is Hailey Jane Deverell, and my brother and I are here because our little Emma died from SIDS, also known as 'cot death'. She was only nine-months-old when Jesus came to fetch her. Mommy says that Jesus picks his prettiest flowers for his garden. I am feeling good because my mommy got out of her pajamas today. Thank you for listening, I am done. Who is next?"
Hailey sat down and squeezed Colin's chubby hand. I felt a pain in my chest and didn't know if I could go through with tonight. There was no way I could talk about Brent in front of complete strangers. I was not ready to let anyone in; I doubted I ever would be. It was at this moment that I felt like punching my dad in the face. This was bullshit, I did not want, or need, to be in a room full of grieving kids. He should be here, or better yet, maybe he should join an AA group, hell knows he needed this more than me. Even though I was only seventeen, and still a kid myself, I believed I could deal with all my emotions alone. I looked at the exit and was tempted to get up and run out when Gary's voice broke my thoughts.
"Just remember, no one is forced to talk at group. Only if you want to and it doesn't even have to be about loss, grief, or death. You could tell me what you did at school this week or what your favorite TV show is. I just want everyone to feel safe and comfortable here."
A few other kids stood up and had their say. I could not recall any of their names or even what they spoke about; I just sat there and counted the seconds until I could leave. It was almost six o'clock. Why did time drag when all you wanted it to do was hurry the fuck up?
Once everyone who wanted to speak had done so, Gary stood up. He spoke about the stages of grief. He reckoned that there were five stages;
1. Denial and isolation
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Acceptance
I think it was safe to say that I was sitting ugly, at point number four - Depression.
Gary also explained that everyone's journey with grief was different, we may not follow the steps in order, we may even go in loops, but what we needed to know was that no matter where we were in our stage; it was normal to be there.
A lot of what he said made sense to me and I felt relief in knowing that how I was feeling about losing Brent was okay. His counseling session came to an end and he finished off with a positive;
"Okay! That's a wrap, time to see what is inside my box. Anybody care to take a guess?"
No one's hand, except for Hailey's was waving manically in the air. She was most definitely a team player. I admired her enthusiasm to participate.
Gary nodded at her and she said, "Is it a pet that we get to take home and nurture?"
"Good guess, but no. I think your parents would set me on fire if I sent their kids home with live creatures, don't you?"
Hailey looked disappointed but smiled back at Gary anyway. Gary slid the box from under his chair and opened it. The room was silent in eager anticipation.
"In my hand I have a book, not any book, a diary or journal you could say. On the front cover is a space for you to slide a photograph in. I took the liberty and asked your folks for photos of your siblings, either alone or with you. This book is yours to keep and take home. No one needs to read it, unless you want them to. My idea with this book is for you to write your feelings in it, be it good or bad. Happy or sad. Share your memories of your brother or sister in here and never forget why they are so special to you. I have also brought some stationery, in the box, on the activity table, you will find glue sticks, scissors, glitter for the girls, pencils, crayons – you get the idea. My lovely wife has also put some scrap booking material in here for you all to use, so guys – go wild and have some fun."
"Uncle Gary," Hailey's hand was up in the air waiting for permission to speak.
"Yes Hailey, what's up?" Gary said.
"Well, it's just that Casey is not here, and I know she would love a journal. I was wondering if you have one for her?"
"Of course I do. I will keep hers safe until she joins us again."
Majority of the group seemed excited as Gary handed each of them a brown, leather-bound book and an envelope. I was surprised to receive both, especially since this was my first meeting. I thanked Gary for my stuff, put the book down and opened the envelope. I put my hand inside and pulled out a photograph. There he was, in black and white, grinning back at me. He was wearing his favorite beanie, dusty, blonde curls of hair stuck out messily at his ears. I remembered this day so clearly. It was the 1st November last year, sixteen days before my brother died. My dad took the photo, Brent was drunk, but no one knew except for me. He had been sneaking beers the whole day without anyone catching him. The entire family was over at our place, we were celebrating my folks 15th Wedding Anniversary. I looked at him for the longest time. I stared at his one droopy, drunken eye. I felt like crying. I stashed the photo back, I would not cry, not now.
"Gazza, this is a stupid exercise, I'm gonna skip this one if you don't mind?"
I looked across from where I sat, a boy with a purple mohawk, about my age, had just spoken to Gary. He was tall and on the skinny side. He was wearing a black Nirvana hoodie, tight ripped black jeans, and a pair of Dr. Martens. I noticed he had a ring pierced on his right eyebrow and two silver rings glinted on opposite sides of his bottom lip. A tattoo snaked up the side of his neck, I couldn't quite make out what it was, but it looked bad ass. He seemed irritable and not in the mood to color in with the rest of the gang. Gary also did not seem pissed, or even annoyed at the comment this guy had made in front of everyone.
"Sure my boy, do me a favor and go clean up in the kitchen so long. As soon as I have sorted everyone at the activity table I will join you."
"Thanks Gazza."
Tall, skinny boy walked towards the kitchen, I watched as the rest opened up their envelopes and began looking at them eagerly. Some kids were already cutting and pasting in their new journals. I was also not in the mood to do this activity, so I got up and walked over to where Gary was.
"Hey Gary, would you mind if I bailed on this too and helped out in the kitchen instead?"
"No problem, Jet, I will meet you guys there soon."
I walked into the kitchen and introduced myself.
"Hey, I'm Jet. Gary said I could help you. What needs doing?"
"Cool, I'm Jared. Let's clean all the cups and plates so long and then if you don't mind getting the popcorn buckets from shelf below where the kettle stands."
"Popcorn buckets?"
"Yeah, after the activity we usually watch a movie. Every kid has a turn to bring a DVD for us to watch. Then we lay back on the bean bags, munch on some popcorn and chill. I just hope it isn't a girl's turn to pick a movie, because then my friend we are definitely watching a nauseating chick-flick. If that's the case I might just go outside and smoke a joint. Romantic comedies are way better when I am stoned."
I laughed at Jared's comment. I also wasn't a big fan of guy meets girl, girl falls in love with guy, guy does something bad, girl gets sad or mad, guy begs for forgiveness, buys her a bunch of red roses, they get married and live happily ever after – the end. I preferred a movie with a bit more action and drama, maybe even some full frontal naked babes walking around for no reason.
"I might have to join you if it is a chick-flick. I don't think I will be able to handle the drama without a puff or two," I said.
"Sweet."
The two of us kept ourselves busy until Gary walked in.
"Okay guys, let me get cracking with the popcorn. Salt and vinegar, butter, or cheese and chives flavoring?" he asked.
"Butter is always a winner, but I am easy," said Jared.
"Same here, I will eat anything you put in front of me," I said.
"I noticed," Gary said. "Doesn't your father feed you at home?"
I laughed at his jesting and the three of us carried on in the kitchen.
"How's life treating you Jared? Your mom told me that you got yourself a job at a tattoo parlor?" Gary said.
"Life is good, every day I wake up is one more day I get to wash my balls and wander around on this big blue ball we call home. I am at the shop four days a week and loving it. Mom doesn't really like the idea of me working in a seedy joint like that but she can see an improvement in my moods, so she has climbed off my back for a bit. There's that going for me too."
"Good to hear you are enjoying the working life. As long as you do what you love then it won't feel like work. You are a talented artist and one day you could run your own shop, when that happens I will let you ink me. How is your mom?"
I listened in silence as the two of them bantered back and forth. Gary seemed to really care for Jared. He wasn't like the shrink my dad forced me to see after my brother died. I remembered sitting on the cold, brown leather couch staring at this douche bag with his severe frown lines while he sat there, legs crossed, writing down every word that came off my tongue. What irritated me most about him was how he continuously looked up at his clock, counting down the minutes until he could tell me our time was up. He did not give a shit about me or what had happened, he was just there for the money. I was just an added bonus to his already fat paycheck. I could still hear his annoyingly repetitive question, "And how does that make you feel?"
"I would be honored to give you your first tattoo, it would be on the house of course. My mom is coping I guess, some days are better than others, but I know she is trying to be there for me and that is all that matters right now. There is a reason 'mother' is also in the word 'smother'."
Gary chuckled and Jared paused for a moment before continuing, "She has also joined a bereavement group for women, and that seems to be helping her somewhat too."
"I want to be your first client, and if it is any good, I might just give you a generous tip," Gary winked at Jared. "I'm glad to hear that your mom is going to counseling. As hard as it is to go and talk about what happened, at the end of the day it is what will set you free and allow your heart to heal again. I believe in this one hundred percent, if it weren't for my group I would have lost the plot years ago. It takes time Jared, as clichéd as it sounds, time does heal all wounds. Don't get me wrong you will always miss the people who are gone, but the ache becomes less with time."
"Thanks Gazza, I really enjoy talking with you. Sometimes it feels like you are the only person who actually gets me. Sorry for not participating tonight, I know you always put so much effort into our activities, but I really was just not in the mood."
"What is my golden rule here at group?" Gary asked.
"That no one is forced to do or say anything they don't want to."
"Exactly, now don't apologize, it is not necessary at all my boy. I just want you all to have fun here on a Friday night, get away from the shit in your life and feel at home. Now let's get the movie started, shall we?"
The tantalizing smell of hot popcorn wafted in the air, and I couldn't wait to get stuck in. Gary helped the rest of the group tidy up, while Jared and I started setting up the bean bags around the big screen. We still did not know whose week it was to bring a movie along, Jared had forgotten to ask Gary, and I did not feel comfortable to find out either. I supposed I would just have to wait and see.
We did not have to suffer through a rom-com thank God. A young boy by the name of William brought Shrek. I enjoyed the occasional animation, and Donkey was really funny. The next thing I knew the credits were rolling and it was almost nine o'clock. My dad would be here soon and my first Siblings Bereavement Group Counseling session would be over. The weird thing was that I enjoyed myself in spite of my negativity towards this whole evening. I felt safe in a strange way. Safe in knowing that I was not the only person who had lost a sibling, not the only person grieving, not the only person wishing that life was different. I could not wait for next Friday, and this surprised me.
My phone buzzed, I opened it;
Douglas is waiting outside for you.
Dad.
Great. Another night alone at home.
I helped tidy up, said my goodbyes and left in a hurry, I did not want anyone to see me leave.
Journal in hand I sprinted to the car.
"Good evening, Master Jethro," Douglas said from the front seat as I climbed into the back of the limo. "How did tonight go?"
"It went well, thank you Douglas."
"Will you be returning next Friday?"
"I think so."
The rest of the drive home was in silence. I was grateful that Douglas had stopped drilling me. Like my dad, he was also worried about me. I just did not have the patience for all the questions the two of them loved throwing at me.