No Parent
I felt her droop beside me as we stood by the grave. Instinctively I reached out a hand and placed it in the small of her back. Unfortunately I knew what it felt like to bury a child. I had felt that pain she was feeling now. I still felt it every day.
After the service finished we stood beside the grave for a long time. It was as though Caroline couldn�t bring herself to say this final goodbye. Sever the final tie with her daughter. I stepped back to allow her a moment alone. Several minutes later she turned and walked towards me.
When I first met her she had been this fierce, strong woman, now she was a shadow. The effort of staying strong in the days before the funeral had taken their toll on her. Together we walked out of the graveyard. In silences. I knew there were no words to ease her suffering, besides, she had run out of words a long time ago.
Outside her house she asked me to come in. I couldn�t refuse. We went straight to the kitchen, the door to the study was firmly closed � it had been shut since that night.
Caroline poured a glass of wine for each of us before I could stop her, then she took a long sip. �He should have been here.� Her voice sounded bitter.
�Her father?� I guessed, knowing he had been absent.
Caroline nodded. �He�� She swallowed. �He says it�s my fault� I should have done something.� Her voice became higher and louder. �Why didn�t I do anything?�
�You didn�t know. What could you have done?� I say in what I hope is a soothing tone.
�He should have been here.� She repeats defeatedly. �He never had time for her. He�d take her away in the summer and expect that to make up for the other forty-eight weeks in the year. When he heard what she did he refused to come. He won�t return my calls.� She takes another sip of wine. I remain silent and leave my own glass untouched. I have a feeling that she needs to do this. It�s therapy. She�s expelling all the pain and anger. �I don�t know what I did wrong. How can I forgive her for what she did?�
I take a moment to reply. �She�s your daughter. You�ll always love her, even if you hate what she did.�
Caroline nods, these are the words she needs to hear. Like drawing poison from a wound, she needs gentle reassurance to help drain the grief.
She finishes her glass and wipes away the tears on her cheeks. We both stand. She thanks me for being there for her and I realise that this is her way of asking me to leave. I mumble that I should be going and she sees me to the door.
She asks me if I can stop by on Saturday. She�s moving. She can�t stay here. Willow Hill school and this house hold too many memories and she needs to forget for a while. She has to pack up Miranda�s room but she can�t face it alone.
I agree to be there. I�ve been there before. I know what to expect. I know I can�t stop it hurting. I won�t pretend that I can, but perhaps, in some small way, I can help her through this.
The one thing no parent should have to do.