Tandem Therapy Tuesdays
I'd prefer Taco Tuesday to tandem therapy any day. This therapy sucked . We spoke openly about Jenny dying, that she will die sooner rather than later. We talked about it for half an hour. I was sad, she was sad. It was somber. Bonding even. Then it changed. Let me be clear. It's been a year and some change. I have dealt with my feelings around Jenny's long running affair--the one she refused to stop--and made it clear that the purpose of therapy was not to fix this ramshackle jalopy we call a marriage, but to allow us to live together while she is sick. Not being the one with pancreatic cancer, I meant we wouldn't deal with it for the rest of her life. Fine. I also made clear, while I would be able to do this, I would not countenance Sheila Capestany or Jennifer Murray at our home. Over time, I loosened up a bit about Jennifer. She would, when we lived in Ravenna, go hang out in the back yard with Jenny. I got some of my best information on the affair eavesdropping ...