Magnificent Desolation_ The Long Journey Home From the Moon - Buzz Aldrin [111]
We spent long hours just walking on Emerald Bay’s smooth, sandy beach that stretched more than half a mile between the cliffs that rose up like protective fortresses at either end, and enjoying our togetherness. We watched the sunsets and the phases of the moon. Lois often spent much of her day throwing her positive energy in my direction to make me feel better. She wrote page after page of notes to me, reminding me of all the great things I had going for myself. She quit playing her daily tennis games at the Balboa Bay Club, so she could spend more time encouraging me. She even cut back on many of her favorite social events to care for me, and to do all she could to help lift me out of the doldrums. With irrepressible vigor, she reinforced the feeling that I should be proud of my past accomplishments, and take life as it unfolded.
Lois never wavered in her love for me. That is one of the most stunningly beautiful parts of her character. She was committed to helping me beat depression rather than succumb to it. She made a conscious decision that no matter whether I expressed my love to her adequately or not, she chose to concentrate on loving me. Concentrate on that which you are in control of, she told herself, rather than that which you are not. She had a boundless well to draw from, and the waters were healing.
Prior to our engagement, I had been seeing a psychologist in Orange County from time to time. Lois wanted to meet with the psychologist, too, to learn how to better help me cope with the depression that still haunted me occasionally. After several months of sessions, however, we both felt that we were spinning our wheels. “Buzz, the medicines these doctors are prescribing are not helping you,” Lois told me. “You don’t need them. All you need to do is believe in yourself.” Lois encouraged me to go without the pills, and she was right. I did just as well without them. My physical system seemed somewhat immune to the medication, anyhow. We realized that we were each other’s best support to figure out our problems, and we’ve never seen a psychologist since.
Lois took me on as her one-person challenge to rebuild my sense of self. Whenever I got down on myself, she wrote more notes to me, page after page, telling me how brilliant, physically attractive, creative, and innovative I was, and how I had so much to offer not just to her but to the world. Sometimes I read her notes, but more often I cast them off, not willing to think of myself in such positive, glowing terms. When Lois realized that I wasn’t reading all that she had written about me, she sat close to me and read her notes aloud, reminding me of all the good things I had going for myself. In the process, she was rebuilding the confidence I had lost along the way.
WE HAD NO financial concerns. I wasn’t working at a regular job, but we didn’t really need any additional money because I received sufficient income from some consulting fees and my Air Force retirement pay to cover my own minimal expenses, and Lois certainly had no need of money, with her net worth in the millions. Although she was worth a fortune, we never even considered preparing a prenuptial agreement. She wasn’t worried about it, and I didn’t care about money. Our only “prenup” was an informal verbal commitment, in which Lois promised to learn how to scuba dive, and I promised to become a good skier. Of course, to Lois that meant that I’d be going out of the gate down a race course! As it turns out, we both held true to our agreements.
At times, Lois would ask me, “How do you feel about us? Do you think our relationship is going to work?” She wasn’t doubting me; she was worried that I might decide against marrying her. I didn’t know how to reassure her any more than