The smoothness of his hand almost alarmed me. How was it possible I wondered, that my own feminine fingers were more calloused than his. Slowly, he gently began to caress my feet, that laid across his lap. I was drawn to the softness of his touch, as each stroke of his strong hand moved in a lingering pattern across the soles of my feet. I glanced down at my metalic toenails. Examining the shimmering pattern of color and feeling rather happy that I had spent the effort performing a mini pedicure in prepping for our date. It had been such a long time since I had even thought of going barefoot. With the recent rise in in the outdoor temperature, I found myself now, finally able to dress for the season, with a very well broken- in pair of flip flops. Without so much as a small shift in his attention he continued the conversation between us. As though holding me close and touching me now seemed as natural as the feelings that were forming between us. His voice carried a depth of its own, as he spoke about his grown sons and the things in life he now wanted for himself. The friendship we shared and how he desired it to bloom. His voice held such warmth as he spoke, with a soothing comfort covering me like a southern breeze on a lazy summer day. Enveloping me like his embrace, with each syllable.
I felt myself rather intrigued with his thoughts and opinions. Slightly, he shifted his weight to reach over and grasp the bottle of sweet red wine we had been enjoying together and poured me another glass. I nestled back down next to him, eager to share more details of our lives. Sipping the wine, leisurely, I drew myself back into the comfort of his company. I knew the hour was late, but it was as though time held no significance. I wanted to know more, the hows and whys that had brought him to where he was now. On occasion, I noticed I pondered momentarily on specific words he used. Letting them linger with in my own thoughts. He rejoiced so much in our meeting and openly shared his enthusiasm at what he was beginning to feel towards me, towards us. I fought hard to not recoil back to the wall, that I had unknowingly allowed to attached itself to me. To run and hide behind it. The wall, I had spent several years developing. A wall created from years of dating and finding myself lost in relationships that had always left me in a savage hunger and thirst for something more. Friendships, that failed in satisfying a deep yearning with in me. A deep seated yearning to know and feel a love that existed beyond conditions of the flesh . Here I was now, sitting with a man who had only recently captured my attention. Allowing him to gaze into my eyes as I looked back into his. Sensing a stirring between us that called to us, to speak from our emotions and the restless parts of our souls. Deep with in me, I could hear the echoes of my past, urging me to remain guarded. But, I also felt a part of me screaming to be released. Fragments of me hoping, the pieces of my heart still remaining intact would allow me to feel freely, without hesitations and fear.
The night ended with a warm embrace and the slight glaze of our lips, tenderly touching to share a moment of closeness. As we said our goodnight and I closed my door, I felt a sense of welcome towards this new journey and ever so slightly a dent in my wall that drew me into taking once more a risk at love
Monday, May 19, 2014
Friday, May 16, 2014
Happy 17 years
It was a simple choice. One I had undoubtedly been destined to make. A choice that a power higher than myself believed I would and could somehow fulfill. With an army of angels behind me how could I fail.
I looked down at the face of the child I held tenderly in my arms. The child that had been planted and nurtured in my womb. The child God had entrusted in my care. His beautiful brown eyes stared back at me, almost as though he could see into the depths of my soul. He cooed at me as a small dribble of drool escaped from his pursing lips. He was mine and I had already fallen so deeply in love with him
and now I had just been informed our time together would be shortened. I rocked him gently in my arms as a single tear slowly rolled down my cheek. I was drained and feverishly afraid. Afraid of the true meaning of the devastating news that had just been given to me. I had just been informed my beloved child had an expiration date that would come far to early.
I wanted to scream, to run, I wanted to somehow stop the sorrow that now filled every corner of my heart. I had felt this same heartbreak almost 4 years prior, when my second son had been diagnosed with the same relentless terminal muscle disease. Here I was now again. Consumed with sadness desperately wishing it had all been somehow a horrific mistake.
I am not sure of the exact moment, ( and even though life was not turning out how I had hoped or imagined), I knew this was all part of some big plan meant to be. My sons were a part of me and it was up to me to let the world see the beauty they possessed. My sons were not some mistake of biology. They were miraculously created just like each of us had been. While physically parts of them may indeed be more fragile than most of us, both of my terminally ill sons are a design of Gods creation. Meant to be a part of the world no less than the strongest athlete. However it was me now, being called to help make whatever Gods plan was, to be set in motion. To ensure, that this very delicate life they had been chosen to live, would be fulfilled to the greatest capacity.
Now 17 years later I have the great honor and privilege to rejoice in my journey with all three of my sons. But especially today in my youngest. In more ways than I have ever dared to imagine, I have been blessed with joy beyond words, since that sorrowful day, years ago. It is with great pride and love I celebrate Josiah tuning 17 on May 21st. Happy Birthday baby, I love you.
I looked down at the face of the child I held tenderly in my arms. The child that had been planted and nurtured in my womb. The child God had entrusted in my care. His beautiful brown eyes stared back at me, almost as though he could see into the depths of my soul. He cooed at me as a small dribble of drool escaped from his pursing lips. He was mine and I had already fallen so deeply in love with him
and now I had just been informed our time together would be shortened. I rocked him gently in my arms as a single tear slowly rolled down my cheek. I was drained and feverishly afraid. Afraid of the true meaning of the devastating news that had just been given to me. I had just been informed my beloved child had an expiration date that would come far to early.
I wanted to scream, to run, I wanted to somehow stop the sorrow that now filled every corner of my heart. I had felt this same heartbreak almost 4 years prior, when my second son had been diagnosed with the same relentless terminal muscle disease. Here I was now again. Consumed with sadness desperately wishing it had all been somehow a horrific mistake.
I am not sure of the exact moment, ( and even though life was not turning out how I had hoped or imagined), I knew this was all part of some big plan meant to be. My sons were a part of me and it was up to me to let the world see the beauty they possessed. My sons were not some mistake of biology. They were miraculously created just like each of us had been. While physically parts of them may indeed be more fragile than most of us, both of my terminally ill sons are a design of Gods creation. Meant to be a part of the world no less than the strongest athlete. However it was me now, being called to help make whatever Gods plan was, to be set in motion. To ensure, that this very delicate life they had been chosen to live, would be fulfilled to the greatest capacity.
Now 17 years later I have the great honor and privilege to rejoice in my journey with all three of my sons. But especially today in my youngest. In more ways than I have ever dared to imagine, I have been blessed with joy beyond words, since that sorrowful day, years ago. It is with great pride and love I celebrate Josiah tuning 17 on May 21st. Happy Birthday baby, I love you.
Saturday, May 3, 2014
the bear
I stood next to my son Cody as our friend spoke to the audience. Listening quietly, as he passionately spoke about his work with USSA. An organization that grants hunting and fishing wish trips to children with terminal illnesses. My son Cody just happened to be one of these very special youths who were granted a hunting trip in 2013. This particular weekend we had been invited as guest to a Taxidermist awards banquet. The night held a very special purpose for Cody. He would be presented during this banquet with the bear he had harvested on his trip the past September. Not only was Cody granted the opportunity to bear hunt, but also very generously a taxidermist had offered to personally do a full mount of the bear Cody had harvested.
Off to the side of me I saw the dark tall figure slowly being moved forward toward us. I had been working on my own speech, silently in in my head, should our dear friend invite me to say a few words on behalf Cody and myself. I squeezed slightly Cody's hand, as the large animal drew closer. The emotions that filled me standing next to my son, left me in complete awe. I had never seen Cody's face so illuminated, as our friend announced to Cody and the dinner guest, that this was his bear.
As a parent, this was one of those rare moments we all hope and dream about for our children. A moment when you celebrate exhilarating joy, in your child's life. A moment when you share the unexpected triumph of exceeding the unexpected. I was for the first time in real life seeing the bear my physically challenged son had personally harvested, 6 months earlier. Now standing next to us, was a full mount chocolate brown black bear.
I drifted back in thought to the weekend when Cody had departed on his hunting trip along with my sister and brother in law. It was a difficult decision for me to have to choose to stay back home with Cody's younger brother who also battled the same horrific terminal illness. The week before I had accompanied him on his hunting wish trip. After weighing the different needs between Josiah and Cody it was in the best interest for Josiah's care that I stay back and let my sister Marie and her husband Bill assist Cody on his hunt. I momentarily recalled that day when my sister had text me from just outside the woods to say, Cody had gotten his bear. After only being in the woods just under 2 hours, he had his first shot and manged to harvest his bear. Cody's first words spoken over the phone to me were" I did it mom". Tears immediately filled my eyes as he spoke. To Cody and I those words meant so much more than him having a successful hunt. He had proven to himself he was very capable of doing something other young men his age could do. He had just experienced what it felt like to focus on his abilities rather than his disabilities. He had chosen to see past his limitations, accept a challenge and feel the triumphs of his own success. Cody with his multiple challenges, using an adapted rifle had harvested a bear, deep in the woods of International Falls, MN.
His remarkable moment of that day in the woods, was now as we stood with the microphone in hand bringing tears to some eyes. Cody's inspiring story was even now reaching out and touching more lives than I had thought.
There has been many occasions where I have been extremely proud of all of my sons for their achievements. As a parent I have to say, the joy is almost overwhelming though, when you can share it with people who understand the magnitude of courage, determination and strength it takes to make something such as; harvesting a bear with severe physical limitations happen. With sincere gratitude and thanks I have to say my journey with Cody and his younger brother only begins at home. It is through these wonderful people we have met along the way, who have given so much of themselves, that help in making our dreams become reality.
Off to the side of me I saw the dark tall figure slowly being moved forward toward us. I had been working on my own speech, silently in in my head, should our dear friend invite me to say a few words on behalf Cody and myself. I squeezed slightly Cody's hand, as the large animal drew closer. The emotions that filled me standing next to my son, left me in complete awe. I had never seen Cody's face so illuminated, as our friend announced to Cody and the dinner guest, that this was his bear.
As a parent, this was one of those rare moments we all hope and dream about for our children. A moment when you celebrate exhilarating joy, in your child's life. A moment when you share the unexpected triumph of exceeding the unexpected. I was for the first time in real life seeing the bear my physically challenged son had personally harvested, 6 months earlier. Now standing next to us, was a full mount chocolate brown black bear.
I drifted back in thought to the weekend when Cody had departed on his hunting trip along with my sister and brother in law. It was a difficult decision for me to have to choose to stay back home with Cody's younger brother who also battled the same horrific terminal illness. The week before I had accompanied him on his hunting wish trip. After weighing the different needs between Josiah and Cody it was in the best interest for Josiah's care that I stay back and let my sister Marie and her husband Bill assist Cody on his hunt. I momentarily recalled that day when my sister had text me from just outside the woods to say, Cody had gotten his bear. After only being in the woods just under 2 hours, he had his first shot and manged to harvest his bear. Cody's first words spoken over the phone to me were" I did it mom". Tears immediately filled my eyes as he spoke. To Cody and I those words meant so much more than him having a successful hunt. He had proven to himself he was very capable of doing something other young men his age could do. He had just experienced what it felt like to focus on his abilities rather than his disabilities. He had chosen to see past his limitations, accept a challenge and feel the triumphs of his own success. Cody with his multiple challenges, using an adapted rifle had harvested a bear, deep in the woods of International Falls, MN.
His remarkable moment of that day in the woods, was now as we stood with the microphone in hand bringing tears to some eyes. Cody's inspiring story was even now reaching out and touching more lives than I had thought.
There has been many occasions where I have been extremely proud of all of my sons for their achievements. As a parent I have to say, the joy is almost overwhelming though, when you can share it with people who understand the magnitude of courage, determination and strength it takes to make something such as; harvesting a bear with severe physical limitations happen. With sincere gratitude and thanks I have to say my journey with Cody and his younger brother only begins at home. It is through these wonderful people we have met along the way, who have given so much of themselves, that help in making our dreams become reality.
a very special friendship
The hallway slowly began to fill up with couples. I felt my own surge of anticipation and nervousness from the excitement of the night to come. This was an event I was not sure at one time, not to long ago, would have been a part of Codys world. A night that held such deep meaning, not only to Cody and his lovely friend Kayla, but also to us, the parents of these two remarkable young people. Surrounding us were some of the most beautiful dresses adorning fellow female classmates of my son. I could hear the slight chatter of excitement from the young girls as they exchanged greetings. Prom night had finally come and nervously Cody was awaiting for the arrival of his special friend Kayla and another female friend Cheyenne whom he had the honor of escorting both, tonight, in the Grand March.
We had spent the last part of the week preparing for this day and now it was with in moments of our grasp.
Cody sat in his chair shyly scanning occasionally, the groups that had begun to gather in the long corridor just outside the auditorium. I looked over at my handsome son in his black tux. Emotions pushing to burst fourth. I was almost over whelmed with pure joy at the sight of him. My son was now a young man, eagerly ready and waiting, to share a special night with a beautiful young lady, that he had formed a very special friendship with.
I spotted her coming towards us in the hallway with her mother at her side. Her beautiful purple and teal gown flowed with each step. The tiara she wore sparkled on her head, as though she had a halo of diamonds illuminating from her. I turned Cody's chair in her direction so he could see her as she approached. His face instantly lighting up, as his eyes sweetly swept over her. Her shimmering lips parting as she smiled at him.
Cameras swiftly flashed as Kayla's mother and I tried to capture every moment we could of their greeting. This was a moment that represented triumph in the lives of two very special young people, who diligently fought against multiple challenges daily in their delicate lives. Without a word our eyes met, sharing in the admiration we held for our children. For a split second it seemed nothing mattered except for the joy we could see in the eyes of Kayla and Cody.
Ever so swiftly and without hesitation as if on cue, Kayla bent her head slightly toward Cody and gently on his lips she kissed him softly. His face instinctively turned upward towards her as if the moment was destined. Tears of heartflet joy filled my eyes as I witnessed his first kiss from the girl who had captured his heart.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Monday, April 21, 2014
the call between prayers
I held the phone in my hand listening carefully to the voice on the other end. She spoke slowly with a bit of a rasp. Announcing my name as though it was a matter of importance to her, that I understood, she knew who she was calling. Dropping the white sport socks, I had been trying to mate, to the bed, I now paused to give her my full attention. She continued to tell me who she was and why she called. Her words were spoken loud and almost with a happiness, that she had managed to reach me with ease. Very deliberate, and genuine she chose the words that would touch my heart.
I had been battling earlier in the week, with sorrow and sadness. My heart heavily fought back at the despair that taunted me inside. I was struggling with another phase of Duchenne, as I accepted my middle son Cody was no longer able to get up from the floor himself and was beginning to lose the ability to climb up and down stairs, independently. Amongst the sadness, that was attempting to grasp at me from another day in the Duchenne world, I was also, struggling with the deep demise of my marriage. Heartache and loneliness screamed at me from all sides. Fear of what was ahead for us echoed through my mind, as the crashing of my world slowly played out before me.
I had awoken that morning determined to get through my daily duties of caring for my three sons and running my house, without tears. Zealously I wanted to be the strength that would carry my sons and I from the hurt were just beginning to accept into our lives. It was summer the sun shined bright in the sky. A warm breeze filled the upstairs room where I had been sorting laundry. My children were happily busy building with Lego's one floor directly below me. Through my open window their laughter escaped up to me, from where they played. I felt comfort knowing somehow amidst all the madness that had entered in to our lives it was the sound of joy that I was hearing from my beautiful sons.
The image of the voice speaking to me on the phone flashed through my mind. I could see her smiling warm friendly face as though she was in front of me now. Very sweetly she asked " How are the boys, this is Marlene". I recognized her voice almost the instant she told me her name. I paused momentarily with question after question flooding my mind. Marlene was a friend of my deceased mother. The last time I had actually seen Marlene was at my wedding, 12 years ago. The last time I had heard the mention of Marlene's name in my world was at my mothers funeral. Marlene, one of my mothers dearest friends was unable to attend because she was recovering from a loss of a limb in her battle with cancer. Here, she was now some 8 years later calling me, out of the blue. I had moved since my mothers death. How could she have my new number I wondered . She also used the word sons. When my mother passed away years ago I had one son, and had just learned myself that I was expecting. I had not announced it to anyone, other than my two sisters at that time. I continued to listen, as she gave me the words I needed to hear.
Almost as though she was reading my thoughts she spoke to me. Shakily I answered her back. "My boys are good" I replied. Laughter from downstairs reached my ears just as I spoke into the phone. The sounds filled my heart with joy. Without hesitating she said "your mom is with you now" and then continued. "She knows your pain and that you are scared." "You will get through this, she is with you at your side." She added. I turned to look at the photo of my mother that sat next to my bed. The photo I talked to daily, the photo that I cried to some nights. In silence I held the phone. A single tear rolling down my cheek. Taking a deep breath I started to ask her why she called. "Your tears are from love not fear." She said so confident. Almost as though she wanted to convince me. She then told me she had been praying this morning with a priest at her home. Very clearly she said, she heard our Lords voice tell her to call me while praying. I wiped at the stream of tears that now fell freely from my eyes. Almost choking on my sobs I managed to ask her why me. Why would God tell her to call me, I had to know. So effortlessly she said, she was dying. She had only days left. I stammered, I was sorry. She cut my words off, and said. " No sweetie, I am happy. I will be with God very soon, do not be sorry for me. This is why I am speaking to you now. He hears your sorrow. He loves you. He believes in you". " Marlene" I said softly in the phone. "I am not my mom I do not have her strength". "Rita" she said softly to me "You have your mother, Jesus and me with you on this journey. " You will find strength from your unconditional love for your sons."
Before Marlene hung up she told me she loved me and asked if she could have my number to call and check on me again. I told her she must already have my number because she was the one who called me. With laughter she said "no Jesus dialed the phone for me.". I gave Marlene my number. However I never did hear back from her. A week later I was saddened and shocked to learn through a mutual acquaintance that she had passed away. The day after she spoke to me on the phone she slipped into full unconsciousness and died in her sleep. Marlene's phone call to me earned some attention. Through a chain of acquaintances I learnt her son was particularly interested in hearing about our call because on the day she called me, she was in a semi conscience state most of the day, accept for when her visiting Priest came to pray with her. It would had been impossible for her to call me I was told. But there had a short period of time when she was left alone to rest after praying, It was believed to have been when her call was made. I kept her her call on my caller ID for several years. I would look at it from time to time when I needed a spiritual reminder.
On occasion when I am sad I still turn to my deceased mothers photo and talk to her. I also try in those moments of despair to recall my conversation with Marlene. Marlene never told me my sons would be healed from their terminal disease or that my marriage would not fail. She did not tell me to not be angry or tell me I was a sinner and needed forgiveness. What she did tell me was, I was not ALONE and I was loved. She told me even though I was strong I would know heartbreak and I would cry. I would feel pain but she also said I would find joy with in my sorrow. Most importantly though she told me God believed in me for this journey and loved me even though I was angry at him. Those are simple things,- things we might be taught God might say. But what touches me the most -out of all the people who stayed close to Marlene on her last few days on earth- I was was the last person Marlene had a live conversation with.
So what I took from all of this is, and what I hope to share is, that a dying woman reached out to me to give something of herself to (someone not very connected to her) me, who was hurting. I believe my tears were heard and answered. Not in a way I would have imagined and wanted. I still will have doubts in myself and in the world actually from time to time. I am human, I will still struggle with despair, anger and sorrow. Sometimes I will even fall hard and yell out loudly to heaven. I don't really have any answers to anything except, every now and then when I ask I will hear the words I need to hear. It might be as simple as a call made to me - just for me reminding me in his eyes "I got this". How awesome is that!!!!
I had been battling earlier in the week, with sorrow and sadness. My heart heavily fought back at the despair that taunted me inside. I was struggling with another phase of Duchenne, as I accepted my middle son Cody was no longer able to get up from the floor himself and was beginning to lose the ability to climb up and down stairs, independently. Amongst the sadness, that was attempting to grasp at me from another day in the Duchenne world, I was also, struggling with the deep demise of my marriage. Heartache and loneliness screamed at me from all sides. Fear of what was ahead for us echoed through my mind, as the crashing of my world slowly played out before me.
I had awoken that morning determined to get through my daily duties of caring for my three sons and running my house, without tears. Zealously I wanted to be the strength that would carry my sons and I from the hurt were just beginning to accept into our lives. It was summer the sun shined bright in the sky. A warm breeze filled the upstairs room where I had been sorting laundry. My children were happily busy building with Lego's one floor directly below me. Through my open window their laughter escaped up to me, from where they played. I felt comfort knowing somehow amidst all the madness that had entered in to our lives it was the sound of joy that I was hearing from my beautiful sons.
The image of the voice speaking to me on the phone flashed through my mind. I could see her smiling warm friendly face as though she was in front of me now. Very sweetly she asked " How are the boys, this is Marlene". I recognized her voice almost the instant she told me her name. I paused momentarily with question after question flooding my mind. Marlene was a friend of my deceased mother. The last time I had actually seen Marlene was at my wedding, 12 years ago. The last time I had heard the mention of Marlene's name in my world was at my mothers funeral. Marlene, one of my mothers dearest friends was unable to attend because she was recovering from a loss of a limb in her battle with cancer. Here, she was now some 8 years later calling me, out of the blue. I had moved since my mothers death. How could she have my new number I wondered . She also used the word sons. When my mother passed away years ago I had one son, and had just learned myself that I was expecting. I had not announced it to anyone, other than my two sisters at that time. I continued to listen, as she gave me the words I needed to hear.
Almost as though she was reading my thoughts she spoke to me. Shakily I answered her back. "My boys are good" I replied. Laughter from downstairs reached my ears just as I spoke into the phone. The sounds filled my heart with joy. Without hesitating she said "your mom is with you now" and then continued. "She knows your pain and that you are scared." "You will get through this, she is with you at your side." She added. I turned to look at the photo of my mother that sat next to my bed. The photo I talked to daily, the photo that I cried to some nights. In silence I held the phone. A single tear rolling down my cheek. Taking a deep breath I started to ask her why she called. "Your tears are from love not fear." She said so confident. Almost as though she wanted to convince me. She then told me she had been praying this morning with a priest at her home. Very clearly she said, she heard our Lords voice tell her to call me while praying. I wiped at the stream of tears that now fell freely from my eyes. Almost choking on my sobs I managed to ask her why me. Why would God tell her to call me, I had to know. So effortlessly she said, she was dying. She had only days left. I stammered, I was sorry. She cut my words off, and said. " No sweetie, I am happy. I will be with God very soon, do not be sorry for me. This is why I am speaking to you now. He hears your sorrow. He loves you. He believes in you". " Marlene" I said softly in the phone. "I am not my mom I do not have her strength". "Rita" she said softly to me "You have your mother, Jesus and me with you on this journey. " You will find strength from your unconditional love for your sons."
Before Marlene hung up she told me she loved me and asked if she could have my number to call and check on me again. I told her she must already have my number because she was the one who called me. With laughter she said "no Jesus dialed the phone for me.". I gave Marlene my number. However I never did hear back from her. A week later I was saddened and shocked to learn through a mutual acquaintance that she had passed away. The day after she spoke to me on the phone she slipped into full unconsciousness and died in her sleep. Marlene's phone call to me earned some attention. Through a chain of acquaintances I learnt her son was particularly interested in hearing about our call because on the day she called me, she was in a semi conscience state most of the day, accept for when her visiting Priest came to pray with her. It would had been impossible for her to call me I was told. But there had a short period of time when she was left alone to rest after praying, It was believed to have been when her call was made. I kept her her call on my caller ID for several years. I would look at it from time to time when I needed a spiritual reminder.
On occasion when I am sad I still turn to my deceased mothers photo and talk to her. I also try in those moments of despair to recall my conversation with Marlene. Marlene never told me my sons would be healed from their terminal disease or that my marriage would not fail. She did not tell me to not be angry or tell me I was a sinner and needed forgiveness. What she did tell me was, I was not ALONE and I was loved. She told me even though I was strong I would know heartbreak and I would cry. I would feel pain but she also said I would find joy with in my sorrow. Most importantly though she told me God believed in me for this journey and loved me even though I was angry at him. Those are simple things,- things we might be taught God might say. But what touches me the most -out of all the people who stayed close to Marlene on her last few days on earth- I was was the last person Marlene had a live conversation with.
So what I took from all of this is, and what I hope to share is, that a dying woman reached out to me to give something of herself to (someone not very connected to her) me, who was hurting. I believe my tears were heard and answered. Not in a way I would have imagined and wanted. I still will have doubts in myself and in the world actually from time to time. I am human, I will still struggle with despair, anger and sorrow. Sometimes I will even fall hard and yell out loudly to heaven. I don't really have any answers to anything except, every now and then when I ask I will hear the words I need to hear. It might be as simple as a call made to me - just for me reminding me in his eyes "I got this". How awesome is that!!!!
Sunday, April 13, 2014
the kiss
The wind whipped at my hair. I fought to brush back the strands that had freely found there way to my lips. Sticking almost instantly to the shimmering moist lip gloss I had just applied. A twang of nervousness rushed through me. As I finally managed to set my hair free, only to be tossed by the wind once more, I could see my date. Standing across the parking lot, in cowboy boots and blue jeans, waiting patiently for me. I was instantly pleased at his appearance. He was early and he had chosen to wait for me outside in a very visible place. I found that to be a very kind gesture on his part. His handsome smile broadened as I drew nearer. I noticed he was thinner than in his photo. I smiled happily as my eyes traveled upward. His height was easily 6 ft.as his profile stated and his face showed like his photo, that aging was definitely being kind to him.
His immediate embrace felt warm, and strong. He had just a hint of cologne which complimented him nicely, and for a split second I found myself relaxing in his arms. It was almost as though I was being reunited with an old friend. For two months we had emailed, texts and spoke over the phone. He had patiently waited all that time for me to agree to a date, with out giving up. Even with my delayed responses to his messages, he did not give up hope. Here we were finally face to face. His eyes actually twinkled as he stepped back to look at me again. Like all the text messages he left for me each morning for the past month, (that let me know how beautiful he thought I was), he wasted no time to share with me now how truly captivating he found my beauty was in person.
I was pleasantly surprised when he told me he had brought me a present. Even more pleased when he handed me two lip glosses in different shades of pink. The tubes each had a light attached to the wand and a small mirror on the side of the tubes. He had most definitely put some thought in his gift and did his homework in reading my profile. I was the girl who never leaves home without lip gloss. He also said he had brought a little something for my two younger sons- baseball caps. I was touched at his sweetness.
Dinner was wonderful and our ability to converse with each other came so naturally. Not once did we have to wrestle through awkward silence. He listened as I spoke about my boys asking me questions with deep interest and shared with me bits about his own children. We spoke briefly about our divorces. Sharing just a small tidbit of why our marriages ended. I noticed as he spoke he was very respectful toward his ex, another attribute I found to be pleasant. When dinner was done we both knew very well the feeling was mutual, we wanted to see each other again. He had passed all my immediate requirements and I knew with in five minutes of seeing him face to face, I would not mind meeting his lips with a kiss sometime if we were to go out again.
As he walked me to my car we embraced again. I was almost sad to have the night end. But I wanted to also hang onto the newness we shared, and let the magic of two friends bloom slowly. I felt his lips slightly brush the top of my head as he tightened his arms around me. It felt good to be held in his arms, he was strong and I felt safe, something I had not felt in quite awhile. I stepped back to look up into his soft warm deep green eyes, he seemed so genuine. Slowly we moved toward each other with our eyes locked, and ever so gently as we met, I felt his lips very lightly rest on mine. The first kiss, with our lips only partly parted, so perfect, so light and so sweetly genuine. Umm- yes we are going out again, and every morning he still is sending me a text- wishing me a wonderful day and to tell me how beautiful he thinks I am.
His immediate embrace felt warm, and strong. He had just a hint of cologne which complimented him nicely, and for a split second I found myself relaxing in his arms. It was almost as though I was being reunited with an old friend. For two months we had emailed, texts and spoke over the phone. He had patiently waited all that time for me to agree to a date, with out giving up. Even with my delayed responses to his messages, he did not give up hope. Here we were finally face to face. His eyes actually twinkled as he stepped back to look at me again. Like all the text messages he left for me each morning for the past month, (that let me know how beautiful he thought I was), he wasted no time to share with me now how truly captivating he found my beauty was in person.
I was pleasantly surprised when he told me he had brought me a present. Even more pleased when he handed me two lip glosses in different shades of pink. The tubes each had a light attached to the wand and a small mirror on the side of the tubes. He had most definitely put some thought in his gift and did his homework in reading my profile. I was the girl who never leaves home without lip gloss. He also said he had brought a little something for my two younger sons- baseball caps. I was touched at his sweetness.
Dinner was wonderful and our ability to converse with each other came so naturally. Not once did we have to wrestle through awkward silence. He listened as I spoke about my boys asking me questions with deep interest and shared with me bits about his own children. We spoke briefly about our divorces. Sharing just a small tidbit of why our marriages ended. I noticed as he spoke he was very respectful toward his ex, another attribute I found to be pleasant. When dinner was done we both knew very well the feeling was mutual, we wanted to see each other again. He had passed all my immediate requirements and I knew with in five minutes of seeing him face to face, I would not mind meeting his lips with a kiss sometime if we were to go out again.
As he walked me to my car we embraced again. I was almost sad to have the night end. But I wanted to also hang onto the newness we shared, and let the magic of two friends bloom slowly. I felt his lips slightly brush the top of my head as he tightened his arms around me. It felt good to be held in his arms, he was strong and I felt safe, something I had not felt in quite awhile. I stepped back to look up into his soft warm deep green eyes, he seemed so genuine. Slowly we moved toward each other with our eyes locked, and ever so gently as we met, I felt his lips very lightly rest on mine. The first kiss, with our lips only partly parted, so perfect, so light and so sweetly genuine. Umm- yes we are going out again, and every morning he still is sending me a text- wishing me a wonderful day and to tell me how beautiful he thinks I am.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)