LOVING HIM ENOUGH

LOVING HIM ENOUGH

When I think about love, I think about him. Although my memory dims at times, there is that one spark that pulsates through my consciousness to reappear, unbidden, into the light of day.

It was early Fall, just a few short weeks until Thanksgiving. My friend Marge asked if I wanted to go out on the town for a little fun. She seemed to think that I was working too much and needed time for myself. She was probably right, and while I protested that I didn't have much money, she laughingly said "Don't worry! You buy one drink and make it last! You'll enjoy the music! C'mon, it'll do you good!"

I changed clothes, finding a red silk blouse and black slacks to be the closest I could come to the outfit Marge had chosen to wear. She helped me with my hair and applied makeup, that I never wear. "A little paint does a lot for an old barn!" she chuckled!

Out into the night we stepped, and into the local bar. The music was loud, people were talking and laughing, and I felt really out of place. Marge ordered us each a coke, and we sat there for a bit listening to the music. Someone came over and asked Marge to dance, and I was left alone at the table. I ordered another drink, this time, a White Russian. I needed courage.

A young man, obviously a little drunk, came to the table where I sat, and looked down at me. "You are beautiful!" he chortled, "Let's dance!" and he pulled me up and into his arms. I let the man and the music carry me to the center of the dance floor, by now not caring that Marge seemed to have disappeared from my side. One dance ended, another began, and we danced and laughed together. "I think we should get married!" He was speaking a little too loudly, and I could see that some of the other people on the dance floor were watching and listening. "Why not?" I replied and to my horror, the band started playing "Here Comes The Bride"! I saw Marge walking away from the bandstand, and knew she had put them up to this. I'd get her for that one, I thought. The next thing I knew, he had tried to pick me up in his arms. We almost fell over.

Knights in shining armor do exist. My head spinning, I was now in the arms of a short, balding man that looked like Kojak! He was the most handsome man I had ever seen! The band had started playing a slow dance, my inebriated lover had vanished, and this man held me close as we finished the dance and he led me back to the table. He ordered coffee for me, and told me I had better not drink anymore. I might wind up married to a bum! Before he left, he asked for my telephone number. I wrote my name and number on a napkin with lipstick, knowing that I would probably never see him again. Marge came back to the table and said "We really should be getting home!" I was more than ready to leave.

The next morning, my teenagers asked if I had a good time. They wanted to know all about it, and I told them about this nice man I had met. "What does he look like?" they asked, and I replied that he looked like Kojak and he might call me. To see that they were happy that I'd met someone made a lot of difference to me. I felt excited and happy, but still not believing he would really call. I was sure he'd thrown away the lipsticked napkin!

Amazingly, the phone did ring, and he told me that he was going out of town but would be back the following weekend and would I like to go out.
It was a long week, and my fuzzy recollection of him had faded. Still, I looked forward to the weekend, remembering that he was my 'knight in shining armor'!

Friday night finally arrived, and I had bathed, scrubbed my face, applied very light lipstick, and was dressed, ready and waiting. My teens gave me a look of approval, and were excited about meeting Kojak!

The man that appeared on my doorstep had hair! In fact, he didn't look at all like I remembered. It was then he smiled, and I would know and grow to love that smile. He came inside to meet the kids and we had coffee together. "Have a good time, Mom!", they said as we left.

It was Thanksgiving night, and everything was closed. We drove around looking for a restaurant where we could have dinner. Nothing mattered except that I was with him, and the hand I held was warm and strong. He stopped the car, leaned over and kissed me. From that moment on, I was in love. There was no turning back, no second thoughts. He started driving again, telling me that he had a hunting camp and had come up to go hunting. "I know there's food there!" he said as he drove.

At the camp, he went to the small refrigerator and took out eggs and ham, tossed me the bread and pointed to the toaster. Before long we were eating a good meal, talking and laughing. He was so easy to be with, like coming home.

He built a fire in the fireplace, and we sat together, his arm around me. He was like no one I had ever known, yet after a failed marriage, I was still afraid to let my feelings show. This was all too new. Another kiss, and feelings too intense to be ignored ignited. Suddenly Joe pulled away from me. "We'd better get you home" he said. "It's nearly midnight." Where had the time gone? Had we really talked that long, and I realized that indeed we had. The fire had died out, and Joe helped me to my feet. We stood together for seconds that I wished would never end, looking into each others eyes. I knew he felt the same way I did, and was also unsure of his emotions.

The drive home took a mere half hour, and Joe walked me to my door. "I have to get back to camp" he said. "The rest of the guys will be back and we're going hunting at daybreak." He pulled me close and kissed me. "I'll see you tonight" he said, and then he was gone.

Once inside, I sat at the table with a cup of coffee, trying to make sense of the emotional turmoil I was going through. It was too early in the relationship to know if it would last, how it would turn out. I wanted it to last. I wanted to feel his arms around me again and to feel his kisses. I turned out the lights and went upstairs to bed, hugging my pillow and smiling, wishing it was him.

He came back the next night, and he came in to talk to the kids and get acquainted. A good sign, I thought to myself. He told them he lived out of state, and would only be able to come up on weekends, but that he'd like to come see us all again if it was okay with them. They liked him! I sat listening to his every word, wondering if he would ever move nearby so that we could be together, if we could last. I wanted so much for us to last. You don't find knights in shining armor very often!

He drove us back to the camp after dinner. He said the guys he'd come up with had all gone home early. I asked him about his work, his home and when he'd be coming back again. "Whoa!" he said. "A little too fast, there." He was smiling. "I have a business at home, and it's not easy for me to get away. We're pretty busy right now - but I will be back!" In another time, I might have seen the warning signals. The shining armor might be a little tarnished.

We lay together in the loft where he slept. His arms around me, he told me that he loved me. His kisses brought comfort, along with his words. I believed him. Nothing else mattered, and as the moon slowly circled the earth, our love was consummated. The smell of coffee brought me out of a deep sleep. Joe was up, dressed,and making breakfast. He climbed up to the loft, kissed me and helped me into my clothes and down to the kitchen.

"I'll be leaving about noon to go home" he said, "but I'll call you during the week and should be able to get back up here Friday night." We ate breakfast, cleaned up the dishes, and made sure the camp was secure. He held my hand all the way back to my place, walked me in and greeted the kids. They were snickering, as teens will do. He gave them each a hug and said he'd see them next Friday. Then he was gone.

Joe called Tuesday night, and again on Thursday, telling me he would definitely be up Friday night. It was so good to hear his voice, and I couldn't wait to see him again. Soon after I'd hung up, I heard the door open and saw my neighbor Marge, with a cup of coffee in her hands. "We need to talk!" she said, as she pulled a chair out and sat down. "Okay" I replied, as I brought my coffee to the table and sat across from her. I couldn't keep my smiles in single file, and told her Joe had just called. "I know this is going to hurt", she said "but I heard that he is married! You've got a two-timer on your hands, girl!"

I couldn't, wouldn't believe her! Joe was so sweet, so honest with me about everything, I thought. "But - I love him!" "I was afraid of that" she said. "Just be careful. Ask him." I changed the subject. I didn't want to talk about Joe. He was the best man I had ever known. If he required a little silver polish for his armor, well, I had some!

After Marge left, I did the dishes and busied myself with cleaning the house. All the while I was thinking about what she'd said. It couldn't be true, please, God, don't let it be true. I went up to my room, laid on the bed and cried. It was a good thing the kids were in school. No need for them to know. I got up, made the bed and went back downstairs. I was not born yesterday. I would not be taken advantage of. My emotions ran the course, and suddenly I was tired. Tired of trying, tired of raising children alone. So what if it was true, I thought. I can handle it, I've been through worse!

The week passed slowly, but Friday night did come. There was no sign of Joe. At eleven o'clock, I turned out the lights and tried to sleep. It was early Saturday morning when Joe knocked on the door. "I got a late start last night, and didn't want to wake the kids" he explained. "I've been driving since ten last night." He did look tired. In those few moments, all my doubts disappeared and I went into his arms, content once more.

The weeks and months went by, with Joe coming to see me on weekends. He was everything I had ever hoped to find in a lover; sweet, kind and compassionate. He called every week, giving me reassurance of his love. I turned a deaf ear to anyone who those who tried to tell me this love affair was not going anywhere. It continued for five years.

I don't know exactly when I started losing faith in his love. I had driven by camp one weekend when he failed to show up, and had seen people there. Children played outside, and a different car was parked in the driveway. I drove on, in tears. There must be an explanation, it couldn't be true that he was there with his family! I vowed to myself that when I saw him again, I would ask him to be truthful.

My opportunity came the next weekend. I confronted him in the car, hating myself for not trusting him. He looked away. "It's true" he said. "I have two women who love me!" I couldn't believe the arrogance. He stopped the car and turned to me. "I do love you" he said. "But I love my family, too. I can't just leave. Is that what you expect me to do?" I shook my head. "No" I whispered. He reached for me then, taking me in his arms. "I didn't intend for this to happen" he said. I believed him. We had both been in love with love, in the newness and the pleasure. We both cried when we said goodbye.

How do love stories end? Some happily. Others are tucked away, in the far reaches of our minds, to be cherished for the time spent together.

We are both much older now, and perhaps wiser. I have not seen him in years, and will probably never see him again. When I think of love, I will always think of him. I hope he has found happiness in his life. I have. My children are grown and gone now, and I am alone. Some people have love in their lives forever, some not at all. I don't regret the love I had for him, or the strength of our passion. I was so in love for the years we were together, and he made a great difference in my life. That we couldn't grow old together is sad, but it all comes down to loving him enough - to let him go.

VALENTINE'S DAY 2003: Joe sent a valentine, a funny one, no hearts and flowers. There was no return address. On the inside, he had written a short message: "I will always love you, no matter what, no matter where we are, even though we can't be together, you are always in my heart."


Countrymom
1/18/04