A Cold Day in June

** Published in the Metro Spirit on December 23, 2009, 3rd place winner of their annual Short Story Contest **

I have gotten used to those random thoughts of my first love that happen in everyday life. It has been awhile since William has been gone, but the memories still float in and out of my head daily. I wonder if it is still normal to think about him that much. I remember when memories used to bring tears and then smiles. Now, they are just there. They creep up on me without warning and come and go as they please. It is not often that I allow myself to become immersed in the sadness of it all. But, every so often, I do. I allow myself to delve into the memories of that day in June 10 years ago when I got the phone call from my dad that changed everything.

My father spoke through tears with words that he knew were going to break his daughter’s heart.

"Sweetheart, it's William," he whispered, "He crashed in his car. He's dead."

One of the only things I remember from the aftermath of that phone call is sitting outside looking at the stars, like William and I used to do, trying to let it sink in that he was gone. I say “gone” because it is still hard for me to use the word dead when it comes to him. I could not say how long I sat there, tears burning my eyes and making the stars look hazy.

Every memory we ever shared came crashing back to me as I tried desperately to remember all of them. I was afraid if I did not think of every moment he and I spent together right then, I would lose them. The rest of that night is all a blur to me. I can only remember bits and pieces of my grief. I guess that is what shock feels like.

I stayed up all night going through every piece of us that I kept in a pink and white striped Victoria's Secret box. The box first contained a Christmas present from William, but now held countless notes, cards, movie stubs and keepsakes from our life together. In the weeks following, his mother, Dorothy, would discover a box just like mine in his closet that he kept on the top shelf behind shoe boxes.

"You should have it," Dorothy said, smiling gently and pushing the box into my hands.

"No, it should stay right where he left it. That way I can always know where to find it," I said, declining her offer and lifting up on my tiptoes to put the box back in its place in William's closet.

I never knew about that box until then. William never said a word. Then again, he was always full of surprises.

The day after the tragic phone call, I drove to William’s house. I wanted to see Dorothy. I knew she would understand my pain, even though I was nowhere close to feeling what she must have felt, as a mother losing a child.

As I stepped out of my car, two girls who went to high school with us were leaving. They stopped to hug me with tears in their eyes.

"Oh, Lindsey, it's so terrible! You must be so upset!" one of the girls gushed, throwing her arms around me.

I did not hug her back. These same girls used to talk trash about me when William and I broke up. They had said I did not deserve to be with him and he was too good for me. All these things were true, but obviously none of their business.

"I'm doing okay," I said, stepping back awkwardly from the girl's embrace, "Thanks."

I gave a small wave goodbye and started towards the back door. I realized there was something wrong about entering that way today. So, I walked through the front door of William's house for the first time. I signed the visitation book like you’re supposed to do and walked into the living room. I will never be able to erase the look on his mother’s face when she saw me, and how she fell into my arms. As we cried together, I realized the woman I had come to for comfort was finding comfort in me.

Dorothy whispered into my hair over and over, “All I saw was him... all I saw was him when I saw you."

We held each other for awhile sharing soft sobs until she pulled me down the hallway to see William's sisters and then, into his bedroom. I sat in William’s room on his bed for an hour after that.

I laid my head on his pillow, remembering all the naps we took in his bed. I opened his closet and smelled his shirts. I thumbed through them, pulling out the red polo he was wearing the first time I met him and the green sweater he always let me borrow. Being surrounded by his smell was comforting. I did not want to leave, but it was the polite thing to do.

I never was one for crying. I think William cried more in our relationship than I did. I had too much pride back then. All our close friends knew that about us, especially his boys. At the visitation the following day, I walked through the line just like everyone else. I looked around at all the girls who cried and found myself numb and unable to just let it out. I stood beside Brett, one of William’s best friends, as he broke down in front of his coffin. I could not really bear to look at William like that, in a wooden box in the middle of the high school cafeteria. So, I hugged Brett until he got a hold of himself and we continued on to the family.

I hugged both of William’s sisters, telling them how sorry I was for their loss. His older sister told me that I was his world. It was something I always knew, yet took for granted. Dorothy looked relieved to finally see me and wrapped me into her arms.

She shook as she cried and said, “It looks like he’s asleep, doesn’t it? Remember how much he used to love to take naps? He’s just taking a nap.”

I knew she had been waiting for me to greet her because she knew I was one of the few in that room who did actually know how much William enjoyed taking naps. She held onto me tightly and it was me who had to break away from her. I didn’t want to, but there was a line of another hundred people who needed to greet her. I had to follow visitation etiquette, doing the “polite” thing once again.

William’s father had been waiting patiently. He gave me a gentle hug and grabbed both my hands in his. He squeezed them tightly and looked directly into my eyes.

“You were the love of his life. You know that, right?”

I nodded, pressing my lips together tightly to keep from losing it. I could not break for him. William would have wanted me to be strong, especially for his father if no one else. I hugged his dad again and turned to walk away.

I found myself alone in a crowd of mourners, not seeing anyone I had come in with. I stood there for what felt like hours and it felt like all eyes were on me, waiting and watching. Then, someone gently grabbed my arm from behind and led me over to the group we had walked in with. None of us quite knew what to say. Someone broke the silence by suggesting we go out to eat together and then maybe hang out at someone’s house. I tuned all of the chatter out and waited to be led wherever.

It was another one of William’s boys, Lance, who noticed my silence. He pulled me a little to the side.

“You alright?” he asked.

I nodded, still keeping up appearances and not letting it go. I did not want these other people to see my hurt. These hundreds of mourners who did not even know us. I am glad William touched their lives, but who do they think they are? Crying and sobbing as if they loved him like I did. They did not deserve to see my love for him spilled out in tears. They would not understand. They would think I was just trying to get attention, which was a rumor I had already heard was being passed around about me. Lance did not buy my act and said the thing that finally broke my strength.

“Still aren’t going to let him see you cry, huh?”

In a second, the reality of that statement hit me like a ton of bricks, just like William always said it would one day. The tears came before I had a chance to stop them. Lance pulled me into a hug and told me to let it out. And I did. I do not know how long we stood there, but I know his shirt was a mess when I was done.

The next day I watched them lower William’s coffin into the ground and cover it with dirt. I was one of the last ones to walk away that day. For many months after he died, I could not ride past the cemetery without stopping. Sometimes that would mean I would stop more than once a day to visit his grave. I ignored what everyone said and kept telling myself that everyone grieves in their own way. As time went on, my visits became less frequent and I realized that I was starting to heal. I used to curse the saying that "Time heals everything," but now I am living proof that it does.

I have returned to his grave every June for the past 10 years to pay my respects. I kiss my fingertips and press them onto the ground where I imagine his lips would be. I sit on the bench that his family had placed at the grave site instead of a tombstone and tell him about my life. I do not cry when I visit his grave now. I reminisce about the first boy I ever loved and then I take the long way out of town to drive past the place where his car crashed. I blow a kiss to the heavens at the exact place where the angels took him away.

Then, I go back to my life. I go on living without regrets because that is what he would have wanted for me to do. I go on searching with the hope that one day I will find that kind of love again. It was William who taught me how to love and the only way I know to honor him is to do just that.

Chicken Soup for My Soul Today

"After awhile, you'll learn the subtle difference
between holding a hand and chaining a soul.
You'll learn that love doesn't mean learning
and company doesn't mean security.
You begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises.
You learn to build all your roads today
'cause tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans.
After awhile, you'll learn that
even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So, plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
You'll learn that you can endure,
that you are strong and you have worth..."

For some reason today, my little brain remembered that poem from back when I was sixteen and the "Chicken Soup for the Soul" books were new on the market. The above poem was in one of those books. It got me contemplating how I must have interpreted the poem then in comparison to how I interpret it now. I imagine at sixteen that I didn't really grasp what any of it meant; however I held the faith that age would bring understanding and wisdom for those words later. Perhaps the reason I did think of it today is because I am beginning to plant my own garden in my life. I have been so busy helping others water their gardens that I neglected my own. I no longer wish to live vicariously through others...I would like to live vicariously through me.

I find myself looking up at a wall of seeds and deciding which ones I would like to plant. The first seed I have chosen is courage, which will be needed for the new journey I am about to undertake. So often in the past, I let fear and laziness come in between me and my dreams. I should have known to weed those fears, but if I had not given in to them before I would not know to avoid them now. My daddy recently made a joke about how as a little girl I used to love to blow dandelions, not realizing I was doing nothing but spreading seeds for weeds all over the yard. I laughed and said, "Sounds like a metaphor for my life." Until now, that is. I always fancied the dandelion and thought it was unfair that the tiny golden flower was a weed. Funny how in life, the attractive weeds can sometimes disguise themselves to make us show sympathy when we most likely should not. I certainly have planted more weeds than flowers in my garden, but no better time than spring to do some pruning.

In late June, I will be plowing my way to a new city to start a new garden. There, I will plant the seeds for a new job, new friends, and a new life. I will also be sure to water and fertilize properly one of the greatest and most honest friendships I have ever known with my kindred spirit, who has been kind enough to offer her home to become mine as well. After living apart for almost 10 years, I am excited to finally be apart of her life as best friends are intended to be (instead of sharing joys and hurts from 500 miles away!) Ours is a friendship that is like ivy...you planted a tiny bit of it and every year since, it has multiplied and grown until it covers most of your garden. Her ivy has indeed covered most of my heart and I am thankful for that, especially recently when she has shown support in a way I didn't think possible from so far away.

I have never waited for anyone to bring me flowers, because I knew I was capable of growing my own. I just have not had enough faith in myself to actually do it. I am arming myself with a good set of gardening tools and new soil to do all those things I have been too afraid to try. It must be something in the spring air, but as the saying goes, "April showers bring May flowers." So, my flowers of courage will be blooming just in time for the "great escape" in June. I cannot wait to see how my garden grows!

Fortunate Friends

Aristotle once said, "Misfortune shows those who are not really friends." The part he didn't elaborate on is what misfortune does to those who are friends. There are many events that occur that can strenthen a friendship, but none so much as when we need help shouldering secret burdens. No one is without a few skeletons in their closet and it is only our nearest and dearest who are aware of what's inside our box of secrets. From this, trust is earned and becomes the foundation for lasting friendships, or what I like to call our fortunate friends. Fortunate friends are the friends we are lucky to have found...the ones that seems were hand picked by fate to be apart of our lives. It is through misfortune that we find out just how lucky we are.

These fortunate friends help us keep our sanity when the world seems to crumble around us. When we find ourselves at a dead end, they hand us a map, pointing out the alternative routes. When the last thing we want to do is smile, they crack a joke that they know will get a grin regardless. When everything seems hopeless, a fortunate friend finds that silver lining you were unable to see. They don't say, "It's going to be alright," when you both know it isn't; instead they say, "We'll get through this no matter what." While you begin to curse the darkness, they light a candle. No matter the dilemma that comes your way, with fortunate friends, there is no obstacle that cannot be overcome.

Then, when it's your turn to play the part, you must remember the requirements to being considered a fortunate friend. If there is judgement to be passed, it will not come from you. If there are words you are unsure are the right thing to say, silence is best. Sometimes you only need to lend your ears and a warm embrace of support. Place yourself in their shoes as you have been before to be able to show the right amount of compassion and understanding that is necessary. The main goal is to make sure your friend knows that they are not alone in their tragedy, but do so without smothering them.

Often when fortunate friends come to face a problem together, there are thin lines to walk in order to gracefully help each other. We won't always say the right thing, or even know what to say sometimes. Regardless, our fortunate friends can see our effort and will appreciate the sentiment just the same. It's all a learning process and who better to learn these lessons with than those we hold closest to our hearts?


"True friendship multiplies the good in life and divides its evils. Strive to have friends, for life without friends is like life on a desert island...to find one real friend in a lifetime is good fortune; to keep him is a blessing."
- Baltasar Gracian, 17th Century Spanish Philosopher & Writer

Go the Distance

Centuries ago, men and women would be separated from each other for months upon months with love letters sent by post as the only means of communication. Yet, the bond between the couple remained and the romance kindled by their sweet nothings written on the pages. Fast forward to the 21st century, in general long distance relationships are frowned upon and greeted with a cynical attitude. It is believed impossible to maintain a romance from a distance despite our increase in communications technology. Even with the technology, couples still find themselves dealing with the issue of the lack of physical contact. Can these factors be overcome and happiness be found even if couples are separated?

If there is any time that a long distance romance would work, it is in today's world. Couples can talk and see each other every day with Internet tools such as Skype and ooVoo, which provide chat functions with live video feed. You can have coffee and read the newspaper with each other as if you would if you were in the same place. Emails are the new age love letters which can be received within seconds. We even have the option for our emails to come in directly to our mobile phones that we can carry anywhere with us. This means your significant other can contact you at any given moment regardless of how many miles are between you. Imagine how convenient this would have been in the 18th century instead of waiting weeks on end for a single letter from your companion. However, a love letter sent by mail should not be forgotten either. The thought and care put into a handwritten letter should certainly help keep the romance alive in a far away romance.

The only thing that cannot be transferred through phone lines or web cams is human touch. This is perhaps what ends up driving the couples apart, not being able to have physical contact or show tangible affection. If the couple is apart for months, should they expect the other to be faithful when our human nature lies in following our physical desires? The boundaries must be set from the start to avoid miscommunication down the road. At the end of the day, physical action is nothing compared to the mental and emotional connections between the man and woman. Honesty, good communication, and laughter are just a few things that make a lasting romance, not what happens in the bedroom. If both cannot agree on the terms set, it is most likely best to cut their losses and move on. Only turmoil and hurt will follow if both partners do not agree on whether theirs will be an open or closed relationship. There is no set way to go about that. It can only be decided by those partners as to what works for them.

For a long distance relationship to truly be successful, at one point someone has to make the big gesture. The big gesture is usually the decision to close the gap and live in the same place. After all, what is the point if there wasn't some potential or possibility of taking it to that level of commitment? Why would a couple put themselves through the trials of long distance romance if not for the reality of their own happy ending one day? It's that little voice inside that said, "Don't let this one get away." Why not see where this road leads? The cynics will say it is a waste of time to chase the dream of love over states, countries, and continents. I say, listen to your heart and just live your life doing what makes you happy. If it makes you smile, then embrace it. If it starts to grow, then let it. Take one day at a time and have fun. Most importantly, don't be afraid to fall in love because life has handed you some obstacles. It will make it all the more worth it when you can look at those cynics and say, "Told you so."

"I don't want to live -- I want to love first and live incidentally..." -Zelda Fitzgerald, from one of her love letters to husband & author F.Scott Fitzgerald

a spectacle, you say? nah ;)

• S: (n) serendipity - good luck in making unexpected and fortunate discoveries

I believe that 90% of the time when fate decides to throw something great our way, we tend to go with the whole "if it's too good to be true..." mentality. So, I have a huge respect for that other 10% when people take a chance and realize that nothing worthwhile is ever gained without risk. The same people who claim these risk takers are crazy are the same people who miss out on their own serendipity. If you ignore fate long enough, she might stop coming around. Be bold in those choices in your heart that may seem irrational but just feel right. As I've said before, our heads don't know how to feel which is why we were given hearts. Logic must sometimes be tossed aside to follow that little voice that says, "This one." Choose your love and love your choice. Listen not to the naysayers because in the end, it only matters what you think and know. They say timing is everything, so make the most of those timely discoveries that are willing to show you a whole new world...maybe even a world that could hold your ever after. As Jill A. Davis said, "Happy endings aren't for cowards." Be brave and never compromise when it comes to your heart's desire.

*Dedicated to Mr. & Mrs. Matthew Sayer - March 26, 2010

shotgun

I am not an option. I am not a multiple choice question. I am not an essay question you get to study for. I am not a take home test that you can bring back on Monday. I am not a final exam that determines whether you pass or fail. I am not a survey to be used for evaluation. I don't come with a warning label. I don't have an advisory to forecast the future.

Being with me is unpredictable and risky. It means taking a chance. It's realizing that every day won't be a bed of roses. Every day won't be sunshine and rainbows. Some days will be like a hurricane with wild winds and hard rain. I will rage like a storm when the world gets to be too much. I will take it out on you when I don't know what else to do. Sometimes there will be damage left behind. But if you can wait for that calm after the storm, it will make you remember why you chose to be by my side. The not knowing is scary. I know, but here's a secret for you. I'm scared too. I forgot to bring my weather gear when you blew into my life. I wasn't ready for you, but I recovered quickly. Because nobody wants to miss a good storm.

I am unlike any woman you have ever met. I'm anything but typical. I refuse to be normal. I say what I feel and laugh when I want to, even if it's at the wrong time. I am unforgettable and believe me when I say that I will leave an impression whether you stick around or not. I suffer from a lack of patience and a country girl upbringing. I am not scared of being alone, but I don't like being lonely. I deny wearing my heart on my sleeve yet that's the only way I know how to love. I can make you smile even if the world has just crumbled all around us. I don't know how to do anything unless I am passionate about it. I am afraid of being happy. I am honest even when it's against my better judgement. I act like I can take care of myself, but it's only an act. I want you to take care of me and I will take care of you. I know how to be everything you'll ever need. All I need is the chance to show you.

I am a woman who is worth your time. I should be a priority, without any question. I will not change who I am. I will grow over time, but my core identity is rock solid and cannot be shattered. My pride is unshakable and is sometimes responsible for my biggest mistakes. I've been known to be a big disappointment. It's the last thing I ever want to do to you, so it's only fair that I warn you of that. The worst thing you could ever do to me is make me look like a fool. I find it hard to recover from a bruised ego because I never want you to see me as anything less than perfect.

This is who I am. I don't expect you to like every single thing, but I do expect you to respect my individuality, as I do yours. Life with me is anything but boring. I don't think about the destination. I live in the moment. I live for the ride. Are you ready to sit shotgun? Or will you be left behind?

The "Romance is Dead" Reload

Almost a year ago, I penned a little diddy titled, "Romance is Dead" and it can be found here. While the year that followed that didn't disprove my theory, I find I need to give an updated version. Romance isn't dead; it has been reincarnated to suit a new generation. While I scoffed at the lack of romantic gestures, I have discovered it had more to do with the men I was choosing and my own lack of looking for the small stuff. We have to make our own definition of what gives us those stomach flutters and it is up to us to define it to our mate if they aren't quite filling our romance quota.

The days of lovesick poetry and handwritten love letters have taken their downfall. Yet, they have been replaced with inside jokes shared through text messages and twitterpated inspired Facebook updates. At first glance, these things don't seem like they can live up to the "old school" tricks of romance, but these new age gestures bring a smile just as easily. Afterall, if you consider the fact that when you receive a text message, you know exactly when that person is thinking of you. Love letters may have the "I think of you all the time" comment but the text message provides us with proof of the fact. Not to mention that silly grin and butterflies you get when you receive an unexpected text from the person you're digging. On that same note, those butterflies are what is felt when we receive the text message, so imagine the opposite when we don't hear from the person we like. Yeah, doesn't sound very fun, does it? So, don't be a jerk! Even if you're busy, just a text to say hi is better than nothing.

Some romantic gestures are timeless and consider this your hint, boys. I don't care what a girl says, we love flowers. It's one of those things that is often seen in movies and rarely in life. The spontaneous flower delivery is, of course, awesome. We will still be just as happy to receive them on our birthday or some other special occasion, such as to celebrate a job promotion. It's the thought that counts though, so don't even think about going with roses. Think of flower giving as a way to show off your creativity and try to pick something you think we'd like (instead of going for the obvious "old school" choice of roses.) I don't want to hear any complaints about how expensive flowers are either. My high school sweetheart once pulled over on the side of the road without saying a word, jumped out of the car, and came back with a handful of wildflowers. Best bouquet I have ever received, hands down.

If romance can be reincarnated, then it can also be of a karmic nature as well. So, remember how we treat others in relationships may very come back to bless or haunt us depending on our own actions. It couldn't hurt to improve your love karma by using a few of the above gestures mentioned. At the end of the day, we all just want to be with someone who makes us smile. Maybe if we learn to make our someone smile first, it will make it easier for them to return the favor. I once read a quote that said, "One does all the work, while the other does all the smiling." I used to believe that, but I think maybe it's time for my own romance reincarnation. If both partners aren't smiling, I see no reason why they should screw up their karma if they're clearly not happy together. As the Dalai Lama said, "Happiness is not something ready made. It comes from your own actions." I believe both partners must balance the workload for both to smile. If both are keeping the relationship karma at an even keel then perhaps they will discover their own way to keep the romance alive.