Sunday, August 30, 2009
My Darling Husband on his 40th
When Dave and I were first married and Cole was just a baby we lived and worked in Montana. My mother in law owned a cabin camp and we ran it for the summer and fall months. And I was depressed. Only now, 12 years later, can I really say that with clarity. I was depressed. And I felt so guilty for being depressed (even though at the time I really didn't call it that). And of course feeling guilty, in turn, made me more depressed. I hated that I couldn't snap out of it. That I wasn't strong enough to will away the sadness and emptiness. "What is your problem?" I would ask myself. "You have the perfect life; everything you've ever asked for. An adoring husband, a darling baby, a lifestyle that allows you to spend everyday with them. You don't have a thing in the world to be sad about. And shame on you for not feeling happy every single day." These are the tongue lashings I would give myself, which typically didn't help me to feel any happier. I adored my husband and my baby. I loved being in Montana. But still, I was miserable. It certainly wasn't a suicidal sort of depression, but it was definitely the kind that made me want to stay in bed...all day. And my poor, darling husband. Trying to do his job and mine with a baby on his hip, while his wife drifted further and further away from him.
Then one day he must have grown tired of feeling helpless. I remember him coming into our bedroom (it was probably noon) and gently lifting me from under the covers. He carried me to the shower and said simply,
"It's time to get up and start your day."
"I don't want to," I replied.
"I know. But, it's time," he whispered helping me out of my p.j.'s and into the shower. "You'll feel better soon."
I could hardly imagine that he could love me anyway. Even though I was so pathetic. Even though I didn't love myself. But, he did. He loved me more than ever. And he didn't give up on me. That day he washed my hair, brushed my teeth, got me dressed and then called his friend Jay, recently graduated from med school. Jay recommended that I get out everyday for fresh air and exercise. Get the endorphins flowing. So everyday that summer Dave would load my bike with the baby seat onto the back of his '64 Scout, and Cole and I would ride up and back down the West Fork and pick wild raspberries. The depression subsided and has stayed at bay ever since.
Every now and then I think about that day in Montana when Dave plucked me from my despair and helped me right myself. Thank you, my sweet. Thank you for being an amazing and brave husband and loving me unconditionally and walking this journey beside me.
I love you.
And happy birthday.