Richard Cabe (July 16, 1950 – November 27, 2011)
Tomorrow marks six years since the love of my life, my husband, partner, and companion in all things for nearly 29 years, and father of Molly Cabe, died of brain cancer. He was only 61 years old, and very much engaged in exploring his practice of abstract sculpture, the work that expressed his terraphlia, the word we coined for our species' innate love of this earth and all who share this planet with us.
Richard proudly carrying the first basin he ever carved. (That's about 50 pounds of rock in his hands, and it is now the sink in the guest bathroom of the house he built for us.)
Losing Richard sucked. It always will.
Yes, I've built myself a solo life that is fulfilling and makes me happy. Which proves that it is possible to live well with a hole in your heart. But it does not mean I don't miss him. Always. We walked hand in hand through our days from the night we first met when Molly was just three years old.
Crazy in love from the start–our backyard wedding reception in Laramie, August, 1983
We weren't prefect–we argued and fought and wounded each other just like everyone else. But we always returned to holding hands, and in the end it was that enduring love for each other, that cell-deep connection, that mattered most. No matter what, we both loved AND liked each other.
We were blessed to have the years we did, and to be able to nurture the rich love we shared with Molly. I know that. I also know we didn't have enough time together. But we had what we had.
Yet, I am thankful to be able to find happiness as Woman Alone. Life is nothing if not contradictory.
Here, in Richard's memory, are some photos of the man I loved, Molly's dad, sculptor, brillilant economist, juggler, the guy with the beautiful smile who loved life.
Mr. Raymond, his proud father, holding Richard at a year old, the first winter he lived in Salida, Colorado (1951-2).
With Molly and her grandparents, Mr. Raymond and Miss Alice, Arkansas, in about 1990.
Building the interpretive sign kiosk he designed for Monarch Spur Park, Salida, November, 2008.
With another sink in the making, Salida, Colorado, 2006
Carefully shaping the steel fire-bowl for a granite firepit, September 2008.
The finished firepit, one of my favorite of his functional sculptures.
With Molly on her birthday, February 2010 (after his first brain surgery, and radiation and chemo).
Juggling for his niece, Carolyn Myrick, and great-nephew, Oliver, June, 2010.
Celebrating his 60th birthday with family, July 2010. (Back row: Molly, my brother, Bill Tweit, me and Richard; middle row: great-nephew Connor Roland, niece Alice Tweit; front row/ my parents, Bob and Joan Tweit).
Relaxing on the deck during a working residency at Carpenter Ranch, northwestern Colorado, August 2010.
At Devil's Churn State Wayside, September, 2011, on The Big Trip, our belated honeymoon two months before Richard died.
Cherishing a sunset at the end of our time together…
May your spirit continue to soar, my love. My heart will always be with you.