Creatures of a Day: And Other Tales of Psychotherapy Read Online Free PDF Page A

kid—in my classes, on my summer camp baseball team, on the tennis team—and now suddenly I’m the oldest person anywhere I go—restaurants, movies, professional conferences. I can’t get used to it.”
    I took a deep breath. We sat quietly for a few moments. “Before we go further, I want to stop for another check, Charles. How are we doing now? How about the size of the gap?”
    “The gap has narrowed quite a lot. But this is really hard. This is not normal conversation. You don’t usually say to someone, ‘I’m worried about your dying.’ This has got to be painful for you, and right now you’re one of the last persons in the world I want to hurt.”
    “But this is an unusual place. Here, we have, or we should have, no taboos against honesty. And keep in mind you’re not bringing up anything I haven’t thought about a great deal. A central part of the ethos of this field is keeping your eyes open to everything.”
    Charles nodded. Another brief silence passed between us.
    “We’re having far more silences today than ever before,” I ventured.
    Charles nodded again. “I’m really all here and totally with you. It’s just that this discussion is taking my breath away.”
    “There’s something else important I want to tell you. Believe it or not, looking at the end of life has some positive effects. I want to tell you of an odd experience I had a few days ago. It was about six o’clock, and I saw my wife at the end of our driveway reaching into our mailbox. I walked toward her. She turned her head and smiled. Suddenly and inexplicably, my mind shifted the scene, and for just a few moments I imagined being in a dark room watching a flickering home movie of scenes from my life. I felt much like the protagonist in Krapp’s Last Tape. You know that Samuel Beckett play?”
    “No, but I’ve heard of it.”
    “It’s a monologue given by an old man on his birthday as he listens to tape recordings he has made on past birthdays. So, somewhat like Krapp, I imagined a film of old scenes of my life. And there I saw my dead wife turning toward me with a large smile, beckoning to me. As I watched her, I was flooded with poignancy and unimaginable grief. Then suddenly it all vanished, and I snapped back to the present, and there she was, alive, radiant, in the flesh, flashing her beautiful September smile. A warm flush of joy washed over me. I felt grateful that she and I were still alive, and I rushed to embrace her and to begin our evening walk.”
    I couldn’t describe that experience without tears welling up, and I reached for a Kleenex. Charles also took a Kleenex to dab his eyes, “So you’re saying, ‘Count your blessings.’”
    “Yes, exactly. I’m saying that anticipating endings may encourage us to grasp the present with greater vitality.”
    Charles and I both glanced at the clock. We had run over a few minutes. He slowly gathered his things. “I’m wiped out,” he whispered. “You’ve got to be tired too.”
    I stood up straight, shoulders squared. “Not at all. Actually, a deep and true session like this one enlivens me. You worked hard today, Charles. We worked hard together.”
    I opened the office door for him, and, as always, we shook hands as he left. I closed the door and then suddenly slapped myself on the forehead and said, “No, I can’t do this. I can’t end the session this way.” So I opened the door, called him back, and said, “Charles, I just slipped back into an old mode and did exactly what I don’t want to do. The truth is I am tired from that hard deep work, a bit wiped out in fact, and I’m grateful I have no one else on my schedule today.” I looked at him and waited. I didn’t know what to expect.
    “Oh Irv, I knew that. I know you better than you think I do. I know when you’re just trying to be therapeutic.”

~ 3 ~
    Arabesque
    I was perplexed. After fifty years in practice I thought I had seen everything, but I had never before had a new patient enter