The year was 1962, and I was eighteen years old and living in a small town in Eastern Washington. I had just finished my freshman year at the local junior college when I received an invitation to spend the summer with a friend and her family that had moved to Seattle. It was an adventurous and exciting offer to consider, and after discussing the possibility with my parents, I accepted the invitation. I had never spent any significant time away from home before and looked forward to the experience. Once settled into my new location, I hoped to find full time work during those months that I lived there. Not long after my arrival, my dream of a city job became a reality when I accepted an office position in a downtown department store. Once onboard with my new job, my employer suggested I continue working beyond the summer months and into the early autumn of the following year. I agreed with that arrangement since I wanted to save money to attend another year of school. There was so much to see and do and learn about life in the city. It seemed as if I had all of eternity to think about making other decisions related to my future.
Forty-eight years have passed since those carefree days of my youth. The summers of 1962 and 1963 were a time for experiencing independence and of learning about responsibilities. It also was a time for dealing with something I was not prepared to handle…an awakening to the emotions and feelings of the heart which occurred with my first romance.
I had never done much dating while in high school and I never had any great expectations of meeting anyone special. At least, not just yet. It all changed one warm summer night in June of 1963 when a chance meeting brought a charming young man into my life. I felt an instant attraction to him from the first moment that we met. We started to date, and it was always with his plans in mind of what we would do and where we would go. I was the newcomer in town and he was the home town boy that had grown up in the area and knew his way around the city.
One Sunday morning my phone rang. He called to ask if I would be available to see him later that day. I always looked forward to being with him and within a short time he arrived at my doorstep. He smiled as he took my hand in his as we walked down the front steps from the house where I lived in the University District. It was a beautiful sunlit day and he suggested we walk to the nearby campus on a stroll together. It was a perfect choice for the afternoon, and within a short time we arrived at our destination.
While there we spent time walking and talking, enjoying the sunshine and one another’s company. When we entered a tree lined pathway he stopped, and without speaking, touched my face and then kissed me softy and passionately. I had never known anyone that made we feel like he did. It made my heart race just to be with him. Emotionally, I wasn't sure what was happening to me…or that I might be falling in love with him. All I knew was he made me feel appreciated and valued in ways like I had never known before.
We shared but brief moments together that summer of 1963. It was a time of innocence and of passions never destined to evolve into a mature love relationship. Other life choices sent us in different directions and our paths never crossed again. I will always remember that summer romance as a special gift. What once was would never be, yet the memories of him will never be lost or stolen away from me as they are a part of my heart and soul forever.
0 comments:
Post a Comment