A Kiss to Build a Dream on

A Kiss to Build a Dream on

    Kind reader, have you ever felt intense fear and indescribable peace at the same time?  Have you ever had a moment of disbelief followed by absolute certainty?  Do you believe in the supernatural and that love never dies? While I have added some details, the events I assure you reader are true.

    The end of May in 1987 was unusually hot. The air was so thick, it made it difficult to sleep. Dad would call this perfect weather for crabbing. Immediately I remembered my childhood days wading in brackish water wearing tennis shoes with basket and net in tow like a warrior going to war chasing the Chesapeake blue crab from each patch of sea grass to the next. Smiling each time as a crab was released into the basket. When we had our mobile in Bethany Beach, we would use chicken necks to entice our prey. There is not one thing that I would change about, as poets would write, “those halcyon days of youth”.  I did, however, wish I could change the course of the past forty-five days.

    The weather wasn’t the only reason I was awake. I had also turned twenty-six. I had dreaded turning twenty-five and being halfway to thirty. I reflected that although I had a college degree, a boyfriend, not much in my life had changed. That was until three days ago. I still lived at home at that time.  Looking at the closed bedroom door, I recall the Saturdays Dad would gently knock on the door and ask if I wanted to help with the shopping. Which I did willingly.  It was not only quality time but a tutorial session on using coupons and meal planning. I believe it was during one of our shopping trips that I announced that I would like to go to college. A rather bold move considering I was the first of my five siblings to do so. Dad was very supportive of my decision and only asked that I be game fully employed a month after I received my degree. I was employed in a nursing home as an activity director. I recalled my dad once saying, “Pat loves babies and older people”. “The ones in between she could take or leave”. Pretty spot on since I had a very small circle of friends. Just a year ago, I had answered a personal ad. When the gentleman called, I had to fess up as having a male voice ask for me was as rare as four-leaf clover. For my younger readers this was way before cell phones and portable phones would add a layer of privacy. My dad responded by say, “I thought you were smarter than this”. He also mentioned a young man he met on a recent retreat. Dear reader, it is imperative that you know that my dad did not play matchmaker. This is why I remember him mentioning the young man who had just bought a house, had a steady job and may just be looking to settle down. Strangely, a young man did call, the one I was currently going steady with since last August. Unfortunately, red flags were appearing.

  My Dad always urged us to plan. Sadly, as I struggled to sleep, I regretted not heeding his advice. I didn’t have a two-year plan let alone a five- or ten-year plan at this stage of my life. Lying on my back to get relief from the heat, I glanced at the door and remembered a knock. This time it was my mom asking me to drive dad and her to the hospital. Dad had been diagnosed with leukemia five years earlier. Now his cold had developed into an ugly cough with a high fever. This was forty-five long days ago. Only mom heard him say, “Goodbye old pal” to his beloved Springer Spaniel Mitch. Three days ago, we said goodbye to our beloved father. One of the last things he wrote to me was an admonition that I was “too serious”.   I closed my eyes wondering how life would be without the man who had called me his heart. The sensation of someone stroking my hair and kissing my cheek caused me to abruptly open my eyes to see my dad appearing every bit as he had in life. Not like any apparition I had seen in the movies.  He was even wearing his favorite khaki pants and shirt. My first reaction was one of terror. I felt that I too must be dead. I shook my head in disbelief, and he was gone. Dissipating the fear was a wonderful warm feeling of peace from the knowing that my dad would always be there. After all it was my birthday.

    Dear patient reader, I could conclude my story now and leave it up to you to decide if it was a dream or a hallucination born out of a young woman’s grief for her father, but as they say in television infomercials, there is so much more to come. I ask you to indulge me as I tell another story.

     In March of 1988 I forced myself out of my comfort zone, meaning home, to join a group of young adults for bowling. I remember the group being rather dull until I saw him. Seeing his blue eyes, dimpled smile and curly hair, I did something totally out of character, and asked him, “If I got a pitcher of beer would you help me drink it?” I was as if someone had put the words in my mouth. Now after five months of playing cat and mouse, we were sharing a table at a dinner theater. We talked regularly on the phone about upcoming activities. Sat near each other during movies. Hell, we had even danced at the crab feast a week earlier. Everything but go on a date. I feel it was a mutual decision to end the game once and for all. At intermission, we talked, and I discovered he grew up walking distance of my home. He told me that he graduated from Mount Saint Joe. When I replied, “My father went to Mount St. Joe”, he responded, “I know I have met your father”. I pretty sure I I heard the theme of “The Twilight Zone”.  He explained that they met on a church retreat.

    Not long after we had our first date. We have been married for over 35 years.