BLESS THIS HOUSE
It is almost 18 years since my husband died. We were married for 32 years and many of those years were fraught with money woes, sickness and denial of my dependence on alcohol. But, for all that, it was still a marriage based on love...love of our family unit and of each other.
Dick was a romantic, at heart, and I wish that I had cherished that more than I did. I remember, in our first year of marriage, that he brought me flowers. We were trying very hard to keep ahead of the bills that were piling up and I lashed out at him… “how can we afford flowers when the rent isn’t paid?” Guess what? It was 25 years before I got another bouquet!
There were other times that I deflated his efforts and I’ve come to realize that I never accepted him for exactly who he was...which was a pretty darn nice guy. I was always trying to get him to live up to some inflated idea of mine for the “perfect husband”. What a waste and how I wish I could take it all back and start over.
After we moved South his health deteriorated rapidly but he never lost his sense of humor and his love of life. He had a hard time sleeping and would often be up very late at night. I had to get to bed early because I was due at the Emergency Room (where I worked) by 6:30 in the morning...so it was hard to communicate much.
It was during this time that he started leaving little notes for me, which I found in the morning. They were always accompanied by cartoon-like faces and I saved and framed a few of them in remembrance... along with my favorite picture of him on his horse Thunder.
It was Dick who insisted that I get help for my alcoholism. He lived to see only 15 months of my new sober self but it was enough for him to be able to write: “Bless this house for relaxation, recuperation and restoration”. I will be forever grateful that, at the very least, I was able to give him that.