Sunday, July 20, 2014

Dear Rick...

Dear Rick,

I don't make our bed every morning. That would make you crazy.

I even leave dishes in the sink sometimes. The house definitely isn't up to your standards. I know you don't care about that stuff anymore. It's earthy stuff. But when I'm messy, I think of you. How you were always so good at getting things done. How you kept the house clean. How we joked that you were the housewife of the year.

I heard your voice in my head the other day. I was about to put off doing something that I knew needed to be done. You said, "When in doubt, do it now," in true Rick fashion. I did the task. Thank you.

My mom pulled the weeds today. Someone else had pulled some already. I don't know who did it. I bought some daisies and soil at Lowe's today. I bought a big teal pot to put flowers in too. It's all for the front yard. I'll make it look good.

I think Tumbler still misses you. He's extra clingy and sometimes I tell him I'm sorry that I'm not you.

I've been sitting in your chair every night. I like it better than mine. I gave you a hard time about buying that expensive chair, but it's a comfortable chair.

I went into the Chocolate Lab on Main Street yesterday with Jenn. I got my favorite salted caramels you always bought me. It's sad that I have to buy them for myself now. I miss all the nice things you used to do for me out of the blue. Like buy me special candy or bring me home an ice cream sundae.

I saw your mom today. She wants Reese's peanut butter cups. I'll get some for her. She told me she talks to you at night when she lies in bed to go to sleep. When I kissed her good bye, she said, "I love you, my baby."

I'll vacuum the house this week, Rick. The carpets are really dirty.

I miss you more than I can express. And not just because you would have vacuumed the house for me.

Love, Arielle


  1. You make a grown man cry.

  2. This brings to mind Howard Nemerov's poem "The Vacuum." The daisies look lovely :)

  3. Sometimes I just want to say something but I don’t have the words. I don’t know enough about how blogs work to know if you know that people are reading your posts if we don’t subscribe and we don’t comment. I want you to know I am reading your blog every night—and that I care so much.

  4. I know that it may sound silly, but this post is one of the sweetest love letters I've ever read.
    Maybe the things you’re writing about are “only earthy stuff”, but “earthy stuff” is your life, so it’s all you can share with him. And I bet he would appreciate.
    In everything you do, there’s a little bit of you, and a little bit of him.


Help me feel less alone.