Chapter Twenty-One

 

For the next few days, Simon religiously attended each appointment, which Dr. Madison had set aside for him. With each meeting, they stripped back another layer to get closer to the source of Simon’s problems.

At their first consultation, Simon had jumped from one period in his life to another; his thoughts sporadic, the demon with the loudest roar being heard first. But, as the sessions progressed, there was a more systematic approach to his healing.

The more Simon talked, the more he began to understand about himself. Their conversations became more relaxed–and so did he.

“It’s just like that old saying of a problem shared,” explained Madison at their final session. “In some cultures they write down their fears and worries onto whatever material may be available to them, and then they set fire to it as a way of releasing themselves from their burden. In your case, all that baggage that you thought you had stored in your Lost and Found compartment of your mind, is actually taking up valuable space in your heart.

“We are not always aware of it; nevertheless, it is still there. If we face our problems one at a time, in most situations we can cope. Failing to do that can result in us feeling overwhelmed–the ‘Poor Me’ syndrome, as if we are carrying more of a burden than anyone else does. The solution is learning how to deal with any crisis that occurs in our lives. It is no secret, but so many tend to forget that the more we store, the more distorted our vision on life becomes.”

Dr. Madison cautioned Simon that he was now enjoying ‘a honeymoon period’, which was a normal reaction. “But, as stability takes place, the typical swing from lows to highs will regulate. And with you heading off to America tomorrow, I fear that the short time we have spent together is not enough to heal your battle scars.”

“Are you preparing me for failure?” Simon questioned, his disappointment evident as he listened intently.

“Not at all. I am preparing you to succeed. Failure comes to all of us; how we handle it is another matter. You are on a journey of healing. It is not a test, nor is it an exam, but it is a process. Only you can decide on the destination and the outcome,” Dr. Madison assured him.

“I want you to keep a journal. If you can, document each evening how you have viewed your day. There are triggers that I need you to be aware of, but everything is here in this blue folder. I have also included some mental exercise notes and some tips on meditation.”

* * *

While Simon had been seeing Dr. Madison, Linda had been working a day shift. As her finishing time approached, she became so restless that one of her colleagues asked if she had a problem. Normally dependable and unflappable, the young nurse’s agitation was totally out of character.

“Ah sure, I’m fine, Sister. I’ve just got a bit of shopping to do,” Linda explained. “I’m going out for dinner tonight and have nothing to wear. There is a pair of black trousers hanging in my wardrobe that has not seen the light of day yet, and I thought about maybe getting a blouse to match it. What do you think?”

The sister smiled and raised her eyebrows inquisitively. “Is this a heavy date?”

“No, not at all, Sister. It’s my brother. He’s been staying with me for a couple of days. I haven’t seen him for such a long time and he flies off to America tomorrow. It’s his big idea, the dining out thing. I wanted to get some stuff from the local butcher and eat in, but he said this was a special treat for me.”

“Ah, that’s so sweet.”

“Yeah, I know,” grumbled Linda, “but the meat from the butcher’s would cost a lot less than the bloody blouse, and I might not ever wear it again.”

Later that day, flushed from rushing around, a flustered Linda stood in her hallway, hair still damp and a taxi waiting outside.

Her life was normally a simple and uncomplicated one. Always knowing what to expect suited Linda’s personality. She preferred to plan ahead and make slight adjustments to her routine where necessary, but that was before Simon had turned up.

“Linda, you look lovely.” His words helped calm her nerves.

“What was that you said?”

“I said, you look very beautiful tonight.”

“Go on, say it again. I don’t hear that too often,” she joked. “Come on,” Simon laughed. “We’ll be late for our table.”

When they arrived at the restaurant, the maître d' led the way to their reserved table, and pulled out a chair for Linda to sit down.

“May I take Madam’s coat?” he enquired.

“Yeah, sure.” Linda was uncomfortable with the attention.

Handing them each a heavy, leather-bound menu, the maître d' explained that their wine steward would be with them shortly.

Linda leant across the table and whispered to Simon, “There is no way that I’m going Dutch on this. How far do you think a nurse’s wage can stretch?”

Thoroughly amused at her reaction, Simon just grinned and replied, “It’s my treat, so don’t you worry now. I want you to enjoy this evening.”

Linda opened the menu and looked blankly at the words in front of her. “How do we know what to order? What language is this?”

“It’s French. Here, let me help you.” Simon translated for her, explaining the various dishes.

He had taken the liberty of ordering a well-chosen bottle of red wine for her and a carafe of iced water with lemon slices for himself. Once they had thoroughly discussed the options on the menu, he ordered their choices in fluent French.

Linda giggled, clearly impressed, then looked baffled as she surveyed the choice of so many knives, forks and spoons. “Simon, is it the big fork or the wee fork that we start off with?”

“It’s whichever fork takes your fancy, Linda,” he replied with an indulgent smile. “It’s your night and the choice is yours.”

As they ate the delicious food, their conversation flowed as they covered a variety of topics before turning eventually to relationships.

”Is there a special man in your life?” Simon asked gently.

“No,” she snapped, and took a large gulp of her red wine. “Tell me more about that girl from Donegal.”

Simon was slow to answer. Gently dabbing his lips with his napkin, he said, “Who? Marie-Clare?”

“Yeah, her. Was she really so special that they had to name her twice?” Her remark sounded snide and offhand.

Ignoring the sarcasm, Simon admitted that Marie-Clare had broken his heart. “I was in love with her, but I don’t think she was with me. It’s karma, I suppose,” he sighed sadly. “With all the one night stands and broken hearts that I leave in my trail, I guess it was only a matter of time before it caught up with me.”

“Was she a real bitch?” Linda slurred her words.

Shocked by her insinuation, Simon answered quickly, “No. God, not at all. She was actually very special. As crazy as a bag of snakes in some ways, but in others, she was so perfect. I really wish you could have had the chance to meet her, Linda. Linda?”

Across the table, Linda’s head was nodding and her eyes closing.

Simon quietly gestured to one of the waiters to order them a taxi then bring the bill. It was time to take his little sister home.