When her father passed, I attended his memorial as I knew I would having grown up with the family as a child. I hadn’t seen her for over a decade, actually two decades of time had passed since I’d last seen her. She looked truly amazing, beautiful hair, lovely manner, all of the elegance I had known since childhood.
We were sitting around the table, the famous gathering point of so many souls of conversation and dialogue toasting her dad, her brothers and me and many friends in the room offering words. I gave my little moment of how grateful was to know the beauty of this family and all of their generous offerings over the years, it was a good-bye, and many thanks were passed around. She then spoke words I didn’t expect.
‘(name) you know I haven’t forgotten all the days you would take my instrument and books and walk me home all the way up Steepie and to my door.” She looked at me with soft eyes and all those years suddenly returned and I melted, and told her how cool a memory that is. I said good night to everyone and stepped out into a light snow on their deck and rounding the stairs I heard her voice, and she asked me to wait a minute. She came to me and hugged me, and gave me a kiss, and we just held each other while the snow fell and for a minute I was back in eighth grade realizing I did know even then what love might mean.
I fell in love all over again, and walked to my car realizing that I could actually be a very good person. I smiled and drove away from a memory in tears.
Years later, love will always remain
apersonaljourney - stories of love 