The boy next door was charming in a simple country way. He said yes maam and no sir and smiled this grin that made you forget what you were thinking. Forget ever getting angry with him. We never fought about anything, our relationship was easy as a summer day. Time went by the way it always does and we found ourselves falling further and further in love.
Being in love with him was simple for me. There were no mind games, no treachery, no obstacles to overcome. But my parents just couldn’t deal with it at all. It was too much for them. I realized that they didn’t know the half of what I had endured in England, but I couldn’t stand listening to them beat up on the boy next door the way they did. He wasn’t good enough for me, he didn’t make any money, I was going to break his heart when I snapped back to reality, and the list went on and on.
I couldn’t decide what I was supposed to be thinking. My mind would bounce back and forth. You grow up believing that your parents do know what’s best. I was young. I had daughters to tend to. What was I doing? Then I would see him, and everything would fade away. I was okay. Happy. I knew I wanted him in my life. Why couldn’t they see it? He would come in the room and my daughters would light up, he had such a gentle way with them. They stayed in his lap constantly and played every game imaginable together.
When we finally gave in to the physical side of our relationship, the sparks were of firework magnitude. I was in love for the first time in years. Maybe ever. It always seems different in every relationship you encounter. Love always comes in different forms of emotion. The serenity I found with him was priceless.
As the weeks would roll by we watched my brother leave to go in the Air Force, we missed him together. My brother had become one of my best friends in such a quick time period. His absence was tremendous. Then only a few weeks later we would find the path of Hurricane Ivan aimed directly at our doorstep.