I started seeing a therapist a few months into my vision loss, when no one knew if my full sight would be restored. I had made a visit to my primary care physician a few weeks after my sudden blindness, and she gently made the suggestion that I might want to talk to a professional. She thought I was handling things very well, but also knew that I was still in shock. I took the paper she handed me filled with names of local recommendations. I was unable to see anything on the sheet, but the doctor had circled one, Karen, telling me that she was her preference if I could get in with her. Not only did I get in, I have been her client ever since.
As I have changed so has Karen’s role. As I healed, rebuilding my life, looking more forward than backward, she organically became somewhat of a life coach. With her, I am able to discuss my goals, to dissect what is working in my life; she provides the tools to fix what is not. I share with her the minutiae and the big stuff, she has a comprehensive and unprecedented access to my life, my thoughts, my feelings. And my tears.
You never know as you move through your existence in 24 hour increments what now thing will bring back the then – the loss, the grief, the uncertainty, the fear, the sadness. The cause can be seemingly innocuous or it can be an obvious rut-roh event. Whatever the catalyst, Karen is there. I carry her with me in between appointments. She has taught me strategies and coping skills, never more important than when the trauma of the past leaves you with none during distresses of the present.
A few years ago I had shared with Karen my love of Elin Hilderbreand books, and being a reader herself, she began to travel to Nantucket via the pages of Elin’s novels. When Elin announced that her 2024 summer book release would be her last of the stories taking place on the island 30 miles off the coast of Cape Cod, I was very sad. But as with most things, I set it aside until it was June 11th and the ebook arrived on my iPad. As I was about to start Chapter 10, I had my weekly therapy session. While I waited for Karen to come on the screen (we have been meeting via video since the beginning of the pandemic), I was thinking that I only had 32 chapters to go. We greeted each other at 10 am that Tuesday, then before we could get into my week, she said she had something to tell me. “I am retiring in the fall.” I fought the instant reaction to recoil. My genuine feelings for this human being allowed me to respond with all sincerity, “I am very happy for you.” Knowing more than anyone that I would need some time to process the news, we didn’t dwell on it during that meeting. I did ask about a referral for someone new, she replied that we would use the next few months to determine what I want to accomplish in therapy in the future, as well as her thoughts as to what would be best for me. I held it together until the hour was over, but as I shared the information with my husband, I cried. It didn’t last long but the impending loss tore through me from the depths of my soul.
A few days later, I was staring at “Chapter 42”, the final pages of Elin’s closing Nantucket book, “Swan Song.” I am not exaggerating when I tell you I sobbed through the entire chapter. About midway to completion, I realized that I was not just falling apart over an author of 30 books that I have enjoyed for 24 years, but I was bereft over a woman who has helped me to not only withstand, but grow and develop in a way I could not have imagined possible when we shook hands for the first time in early 2013. Elin’s words are my pleasure, Karen’s words are my lifeline.
There will be no tour, but these Eras are over. There will be new authors, new novels. I will revisit the titles I have loved. I will most likely begin working with a new therapist, but at this moment in time I cannot imagine what I will do without Karen. Her wisdom and guidance will stay with me, of course, and I will hear her voice in my head until the day that I die. I have survived the loss of my mom, my vision, my father-in-law and my mother-in-law in the last 12 years, now I must work through this loss without the woman who helped me endure all the rest. I am not sure how I will do this, but to fail would be a great disservice to Karen and all that she has given me. This website you are currently looking at is, in a way, due to her. Sister Rain is me and without Karen I would be a very different person. The fact that I can travel again after losing my sight and still love it is a result of our work together. I am infinitely grateful.
Chapters close and the next begins. I will miss you terribly, Karen, but I will be okay. You saw to that. I wish you great health, much happiness, leisurely mornings with a good book and a delicious cup of coffee, many travel adventures, exciting new ancestral discoveries and the unwavering knowledge that you have changed people’s lives. No one deserves a happy ending more than you. Not even Chief Ed Kapenash.
#sisterrain #alittlesightalotofheart #legallyblindwriter #elinhilderbrand #swansong #karen #retiringmindspleasedontgo
