When I was 13, we moved from Ohio to Northern Virginia.
My dad had been working for the Air Force at Wright-Patterson AFB and was offered a significant promotion and a transfer to the Pentagon. His new job required travel, so three or four times a year he would go on inspection trips amd be gone three or four weeks at a time.
My relationship with him at that time was problematic, so my life during those trips was much calmer and more relaxing.
There was one other difference, though. Something I never really thought about until years later. When my dad was home, I nearly always slept well. I knew there was someone older, larger and stronger in the house in case anything threatening or bad happened.
When he was away, it was just my mother and the five children. I was the oldest, largest and strongest of the five and I didn’t sleep as well.
Thirty years later, living in Los Angeles with a wife and two young children, I found myself realizing that whether they realized it consciously or not, the three of them slept better because I was in the house.
It was a good feeling.
An additional thirty years later, living in Georgia with just my wife, an interesting thing happened last night. It wasn’t the first time. In fact, it happens more often than not. Nicole awakened me in the middle of the night to tell me she was frightened because she thought she heard someone in the house.
Even a house and neighborhood as calm as ours looks in the picture can be scary late at night.
It’s no fun to be awakened at 3 a.m., although in my 4 1/2 months in assisted living I had plenty of nights when I was still awake then. But I have one hard-and-fast rule when it comes to nighttime awakenings.
When Nicole tells me she is scared, I never react with anger or annoyance. I tell her I’m sure there is no one in the house and I ask her if she wants me to check.
She nearly always does, so I get out of bed and check every room in the course and garage. I come back and tell her there’s no one in the house except the two of us. Then I tell her she doesn’t need to worry and that I will never let anyone hurt her and will always do everything I can to protect her.
She relaxes and goes back to sleep.
And I know that even at age 76, as long as the love of my life is alive, there is still someone who needs me.