Marriage Advice

Lessons in love from the bedside

The newlywed stretched his left arm over the blankets and tubes. The diamonds sparkled in the dim lights.

“Your ring looks just like my husband’s,” I told him.

Encircled with diamonds on a thick silver band, the stones were clear and bright, like the eyes of this proud, new husband.

His parents had set up camp in the corner, surrounded by pink lilies, red roses, slightly deflated balloons with “I Love You” and “Happy Valentine’s Day” printed on them.

Was Valentine’s Day only two weeks ago?

I don’t abhor the day, but after 31 years of marriage, and because the dinner specials on that day are often overpriced and underwhelming, my husband and I opt to stay in on the biggest day of love.

When Rick got down on one knee in the middle of a crowded restaurant on Valentine’s Day 33 years ago, I was genuinely surprised. Shouldn’t all new fiancées be? I never suspected it was coming, even though just after arriving at the restaurant he had to return home to get “his wallet,” which was really the engagement ring that in his nervousness was forgotten.

Forgiving him for leaving me alone for 30 minutes at the table on Valentine’s Day was the first of many times one of us would forgive the other for something.

After talking about our respective rings – the newlywed’s wife has the same kind of smaller diamond band with a solitaire engagement ring as I do - he asked me for marriage advice.

I hesitated. I told him that I was no expert and that sometimes I feel like we’re still figuring things out.

“After almost 32 years? Wow…” His eyes lit up. Georgann, the recreational therapist who escorts my labrador Christie and I to see patients, chimed in with some words of wisdom. Together, we had 55 years of marriage experience.

I told him about the promise my husband and I kept to each other: Never go to sleep angry. Georgeann emphasized the importance of being able to say “I’m sorry” when necessary.

Meanwhile, Christie and the hospital’s facility therapy dog, Belle, a Golden Retriever, did what they do best. Tails wagging, butts wiggling, sitting patiently, they simply gave love.

Georgann and I took turns maneuvering our way behind the hospital bed so the newlywed could lean over and reach each pup’s head, scratch their necks, and rub their velvet ears.

His eyes lit up again, but this time it wasn’t about shiny diamonds or adorable dogs.

“I made the list,” he said.

A week ago, on my first visit to his room, I learned that he was undergoing tests to determine if he was a candidate for the transplant list. He and his fiancée were also planning a wedding in the hospital chapel.

There was no time for bridal showers or bachelor parties. No gift registries, either. There was only one registry they cared about, and to be added to that list, he would need to pass a battery of tests.

Weddings are the beginning of a new life for a couple. The occassions are love fests, and rightfully so. A wedding is a union of hope and commitment in a world that often lacks love, compassion, and understanding.

Songs are written about the concept, but what does it mean to live love?

The Troggs of Wild Thing fame also wrote Love is All Around, resurrected by the movie Love Actually and the character of Billy Mack who sang his version, Christmas is All Around.

I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes
Well, love is all around me
And so the feeling grows
It's written on the wind, it's everywhere I go…

I usually only think of that song in December during our annual viewing of Love Actually, but today, in one half of a dimly lit hospital room stuffed with flowers, cards, tubes and wagging tales, love was all around.

Thanks to the generosity of someone he doesn’t know, the newlyweds will have a chance at a long marriage. Someday, this couple who has already faced challenges most of us will be lucky to never experience, will inspire others just beginning their marriage journeys.

I hope I get to see him again during my next volunteer shift with Christie. She only became a certified therapy dog because her role as a Southeastern Guide Dogs Ambassador required it. When a torn ACL meant that this budding guide dog would become our family pet, I never imagined she could have another job.

Each time we pull into the parking garage, she perks up. At almost 9, she practically pulls me through the double automatic doors, stopping briefly to lick the security guard, then guiding me to the volunteer office. She’s on a mission, and she knows exactly where she is going.

I’m simply the conduit, and the lucky benefactor who is welcomed into another’s life when they’re most vulnerable.

Each patient has a story, and we’ve been privileged to serve those in their final days. We’ve met teens with cancer, expectant mothers whose babies are too small to come into the world just yet, and, yes, those who are patiently, expectantly, waiting for a new chance at a full life.