My wife is a very private person. She has one friend on facebook, for example, and that person is me. Yesterday was her birthday.When I posted this same message yesterday, I attached a photo. She was correctly upset. I removed the Facebook posting of this blog post at her request. I should have sought her approval and I did not.
I have known her since 1987 and we have been married since 1989. During the early years of our marriage, I was struggling mightily. I was trying to run a business, suffered a near-nervous collapse, was recovering from a sad and unwanted divorce, dealing with debt, my health was a shambles, and I was doing my best as a half-time father to three little girls.
She was my rock. She stuck by me in the darkest of times. She expended all of her energy on keeping me afloat and she dedicated more energy and love towards my daughters than they will ever understand. We both know that the relationship between her and the girls will always be flawed and distant. It is seems inevitable given their relationship with their mother. We have accepted this but are deeply saddened by it. I live quietly with this sadness but also know that we did our very best—and that is all one can do. I can unequivocally say that had she not been in my life, there may not have been a life.
Her love of and dedication to our three dogs was (they have each, sadly, passed) truly remarkable. She communicated with Alex, Abby and Simon telepathically. She loved them more than I have ever witnessed love. When she was ill, the dogs knew it and stuck close by. When she was happy, they romped alongside. They were her solace has she comforted and stood by me in good and bad times. We are happily now investigating our fourth dog (perhaps a Welsh Terrier.)
Today, we have one of the most interesting and wonderful relationships possible. Our mutual independence is respected. We play off each other’s strengths and compensate for each other’s weaknesses (my weakness ledger is much longer than hers.) Both of us, in our declining years, are focused on our art. She, with her deep understanding of weaving and its associated history, is spending time with her looms creating spectacular work. I can always tell when the warp and wefts are in harmony—because her mood is elevated. Such is the life of an artist. She grants me space to paint. She supported my recent three year struggle with letting go of the company I co-founded with two other wonderful human beings: Garth Rockcastle and Tom Meyer. And now she is going to be here alone in Mexico for the better part of a year while I go off to Italy to study painting in 2017.
I am profoundly grateful to her for all she is and does. I wish her the very best on her birthday. Now, if only we can stay healthy so that our waning years can be spent in blissful parallel as we independently work to create our art, travel together and live out these remaining years here in Mexico.
Happy birthday my dearest. Sorry for my transgression.