Marry a Blind Man

A Love Letter to My Husband on Our Nineteenth Anniversary

Golfing circa 2004

A song that played when I was a teenager advised men that if they wanted to be happy they should never make a pretty woman their wife.

The only song I recall making any suggestion about what to look for in a man was to pay attention to his kiss because that’s how you’d know he loved you.

My advice is to find a blind man.

I didn’t know Bob was blind when we met, or even for most of the past twenty-three years we’ve been together, first as a couple, then living together, and finally marrying.

July 28, 2007: Entering our wedding reception to Louis Armstrong singing It’s A Wonderful World

Only recently did I realize he’s blind, and in the very best way.

“How do I look, honey?”

“You always look great.”

Sometimes that would frustrate me because he didn’t seem to notice the difference between me with makeup and me first thing in the morning, looking like the bed had won the battle.

It took a long while for me to understand the gift of someone who is blind to my flaws, not only the physical ones, but the more human ones too. Speaking before I think, fuming and fussing over things that don’t matter much in the larger scheme of life, and making bodily sounds no other human should ever have to hear.

Bob is remarkably astute about the true nature of our friends and the new people we meet. He listens more than he talks and has the ability to hear beyond words. If someone has faults, he doesn’t dwell on them, if he thinks of them at all. He likes people and sees them in the best possible light. If he likes you, all he notices is that he’s with someone he enjoys.

The beauty of having a blind husband is living in a criticism-free environment that encourages my spirit and creativity.

I’d heard about unconditional love, but until Bob, I didn’t know what it felt like to be bathed in this gentle light every day.

I no longer live with a ready apology for my mistakes. Now I laugh and let Bob know I see my foibles. His lack of judgment allows me to find them human, entertaining, and sometimes very funny.

He’s not perfect. No one is. But who cares when he’s blind to everything that’s unimportant?

Shame does not live in our home.

And that’s because of Bob.

Loving Bob has been one of the easiest things I’ve ever done. I unwrap this gift every morning, always with gratitude, a thank you, and, “Good morning, my darling. I love you.”

“Good morning, my love. I love you, too,” he says.

And in our home, no matter the challenges, love is where we begin and where we return.

“Good night, honey. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“See you in the morning.”

“You’ve got a date.”

Because Theme From a Summer Place is his favorite song, this is for you, Bobby. Happy Anniversary.

I love you.