ERNIE AND ERNESTINA: Searching

Book Two, Chapter 307: The Pact

As you aged, Ernie, with your energy lessening and your hair whitening, you called yourself an “older pet”. You knew you needed special care, as older pets do.

When I finally recognized that you were failing physically, what did I do? In a typical co-dependent move, I turned to Joshua. I begged his forgiveness for the way I parented him. I called myself a bully. I wanted Joshua to love me.

“Maybe you feel guilty about the way you raised Joshua, but don’t make me feel guilty,” you said to me.

I had no idea you already carried within you a heavy load of guilt from way back, from your drinking years and even before. And now, in your final years, I was making you feel guilty about how we raised Joshua. And you were so proud of him.

Just when you needed me the most, when you felt your most physically depleted, when everything was a push for you, when you forced yourself to tie a shoe lace, take a walk, climb a hill, just at this time I turned from you and toward your rival, your son. That’s when you said: “Just when I think I can trust you, you do this. You’ve broken trust. It’s either you go or I go.”

I didn’t know you didn’t trust me. I assumed you did. I assumed I trusted you. Of course, I didn’t know what trust was.

That’s the irony of co-dependency. We help the other so the other will help us . . . but it’s a pact written in sand.