THOMAS L. CHIU
HE CALLED HER
THE CIRCLES
"This is Father Cooke of St. Andrews Parish in Green Point.
I wish to call on your services for Mr. Robinson, a fifty-five year old
man who is quite despondent, and we think he should go in a hospital."
Thus came the referral to our Mobile Geriatric Program, established in the
early seventies, which recently came into full operation. Mr. Robinson was
one of the early clients, and was to stay on with the Program the next three
years.
Enquiries revealed that Mr. Robinson was recently widowed, had no children,
and was living by himself in an apartment within a huge complex in the Green
Point section of Brooklyn, New York. The area appeared besieged, forlorn,
unkind, and empty.
His apartment was on the fourteenth floor. It was well kept and adequately
furnished. There was no memorabilia, however. He spoke of his wife, who
died several months earlier, after a lingering illness. Their marriage was
a happy and comfortable one, spanning almost thirty years.
There was now a vacuum that left him feeling oppressively closed in. Life
for him had come to an end, and he wanted an exit-the window. It was as
if the air that sustained him had suddenly gotten sparse.
Mr. Robinson had a little savings and was receiving a small pension. With
no immediate family around him, he was desolate.
After our initial contact with him, he agreed to come to our office. He
appeared to us to be a man with great resilience and imagination. Born and
raised in Manchester, England, he wanted to see other places in his teens.
America, a new world for him then, became a reality when he jumped from
a merchant marine ship.
Procuring a job after a brief hiatus, he was able to secure and anchor himself
with certainty. Marriage further welded his position to stability.
Through medicine, supportive counseling and, later, group therapy, his confidence
in himself increased. A brighter side to his life dawned. His spirits soared
gradually. The group, which was to be with him for the next three years,
had provided him with another vision, a vision within to search for his
past. The group, in pursuit of this, helped him locate his two sisters,
one in England, the other in South Africa.
Immediately upon finding an old address in England, he composed his very
first letter in thirty years. There was trepidation. The group held its
breath.
One day, months later, when hope was thought non-existent, Mr. Robinson
came to announce the news, very good news, indeed.
"You must go now, Jay," the group urged in unison.
"Is it possible, after all these years?" he queried.
Summoning another round of determination, similar to his earlier feat of
leaving his country, he decided to visit his sister.
"I am scared," he said a few times in the group.
"You will make it."
The sweetness of being home, long lost, and the many ambiguities of his
feelings of giving up an adopted country, made him all the more perplexed
and frightened.
The group helped him overcome these negative feelings.
With a warm send-off, he left.
Then there was no news.
Days, weeks, and months passed. Not even a post card.
Summer went by slowly, until towards its end, when Mr. Robinson suddenly
trotted in, beaming.
With joys of seeing him back, the group hungered for what he had to relate.
Foregoing his tales of meeting with his family, he reported what would be
a turning point in his life.
"I was on a public phone one day near where my sister lived, when I
heard this vaguely familiar voice, `Is that you, Jay?' behind me. I was
awe struck. There in front of me stood Sheilagh, now all silvery but unmistakably
she, my one enchanting lass! What separated us and brought us back together
was a miracle. Needless to say, we promised to write each other and to pick
up the thousand pieces of our lives we'd left to the winds."
Since then, the group had become consumed with "The Lost Affair Regained."
Mr. Robinson, after coming back to the group, began to read all his correspondence
to the members.
Excitement mounted each week, as he unfolded the innermost thoughts of the
letters. The group was not only listening to them, but was also becoming
part of the "soap opera." The members would volunteer ideas for
Mr. Robinson to write in his letters. The tenacity of the group was obvious,
in wanting to unite the two. The fresh outlook on both Jay and Sheilagh
favored the final union, but not without nights of soul-searching on Jay's
part. He would be saying goodbye to America now, with a heavy heart. The
group, by this time, had become his family. He was overwhelmed by their
love for him. The group also, with its munificence, appreciated his willingness
to open his heart to them.
The circles were complete, at last. A triumph of the spirit fostered by
his peers helped Jay to shape his next adventure back across the Atlantic,
as if to say, "Listen, Jay, go now to your Sheilagh, go to your land
now and cherish them."
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