ERNIE AND ERNESTINA: The Writer, His Wife, and their Afterlife

Book One, Part Two, Chapter 43: Talk of Therapy

Bella, my neighbor down the hall who sometimes visits me, takes high offense at my kitchen floor. “It’s unsanitary. You’re blocked. You need to talk to a therapist. Maybe one session will help. Try it.”

Bella’s sister is a therapist. Bella’s been in therapy.

“How did the therapy help you?” I ask.

“It gave me clarity. I learned how to go forward with my life. Therapists can’t do it for you, but they help.”

On my walk to the park I run into another neighbor, Missy, whose attorney husband died a few months before Ernie died. “Was it hard for you to let go of his things?” I ask her.

“My husband moaned and groaned about all his clippings and notes. I threw them all away. They didn’t mean anything to me. Keep only what means something to you,” and Missy touches her heart.

“I have a hard time getting rid of anything. Even a grocery receipt.”

“I think you do because you’re having a hard time letting go of your husband. Therapy might help you. Maybe three or four sessions.”

Once, during an argument, Ernie said to me: “Maybe you’re the voice of sanity.” But a moment later, he said: “You’ve always been so negative. That’s been your problem. You’re the culprit here. It’s your problem. It always has been.”

Can someone help me?

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Ernestina

My writer husband’s favorite nickname for me was Ernestina, so in this 2-book memoir, he is Ernie. This is his story, our story, and my story. I invite you in.