My First Love: Such Sweet Times
A Life Time of Memories
My busy life, career, including family and friends seemed to devour time as the years soared by without even a wink of acknowledgment; while all the bloom faded from life’s rose garden.
During that hectic time I often sung Dolly’s song “Working Nine to Five” and I felt related to every word; smiling as if time was my closest friend. And, as my cousin said about a woman one day while acting silly; ---time has made her long in the tooth ---a horrible analogy.
So, here I am polishing my long tooth and all that goes with over the hill gang---checking my blond hair for gray roots. My only saving grace is I still can boast about my excellent memory.
Time does give out positives which are memories---such sweet memories I collected as I sail the sea of life. And, I will share one with anyone who wants to read about---first love.
My First Grade Love
I lived down the block from my first love, and we were in the first grade together. I thought he was so handsome even then. His name was Joe-Don, and his hair was so blond it was almost white, and he had the greenest eyes I have ever seen. How does a first grader know when she is in love? She just knows, however, our parents called it puppy love. We knew it was love at first sight to last a lifetime. And, knowing is as simple as first grade spelling or first grade math---we knew.
We talked about this Joe-Don and I, and we thought it was funny, because I didn't have a puppy---but I did have a parrot. Yes, her name was Polly, and she was about 50 years old, and she called my name when I came home from school, or when she wanted more sunflower seed, or for no reason at all. Anyone, who walked on the street in front of our house could hear Polly squawking, "Bobbi-Bobbi."
Saturday Afternoon Movie
Joe-Don walked to my house on Saturday afternoons, and he knocked on our front door, and called my name. Naturally, Polly would answer---Bobbi-Gone, Bobbi-Gone. Joe-Don always laughed, and called my name-- again.
I waited for my mother or father to answer the door,----finally, one of them would. I was so afraid Joe-Don would leave, but I was not allowed to answer the door when I knew it was for me---per my seven-year old neighbor's instructions.
Miss Judy knows-it-all is what I called her. Her mother was a nurse, and as Judy told everyone, who would listen--nurses know everything---more than doctors.
My mother just smiled when I told her what Judy was telling everyone.
Anyway, Joe-Don reached for my hand as we walked down the steps of my house, and we walked hand-in-hand all the way to the movies.
We shared a drink and popcorn, and he always bought a box of Red Hearts, so we could eat them on the way home.
Joe-Don had the best manners, and he was very protective of me. I only saw him mad once, and that was at the church ladies, as we called them. These older ladies appointed themselves as behavior police in our small town. They called our parents for the least infraction; and we got in trouble more than once with them.
However, my seven-year old neighbor Judy, called the church ladies---old busy bodies---. And that is exactly what they were to Joe-Don and me. One of them called our parents when Joe-Don kissed me under a neighbor's arbor, which had mistletoe hanging from it, she was spying.
I tried to explain to my parents that you are supposed to kiss under the mistletoe it was a rule. Well, it was not their rule, our parents forbid us seeing each other on Saturdays for two weeks. Those were the longest two weeks of my little six-year-old life. And when the third Saturday came, I had the measles, so I could not go with Joe-Don to the movies, again. This was three weeks of not seeing my love on Saturdays, only during school hours.
My Heart Break
Finally, it was the fourth Saturday, and I was wearing my good luck dress, it was dark green with a big white-collar, and pearl buttons. It made my blond hair and blue eyes shine, or, so my grandmother said.
The old Grandfather Clock ticked away, as I waited for Joe-Don's knock on the front door. I waited for Joe-Don for a long time--but he did not come on that Saturday afternoon.
Well, to say a first grader does not get ticked would be a gross understatement---I refused to eat--and I would not go to Sunday School the next morning. My parents were livid; they blamed Joe-Don for not calling, at least. My father said, "Baby, you don't need him. There are more fish in the sea besides just one." And now he wants to go fishing I thought, and I wonder what my mother wants to do.
Monday morning at school, Joe-Don met me on the sidewalk and told me his dad said he was getting too serious about me, and that he was forbidden to come to my house, anymore. I watched his lips moving, but I could not hear what he was saying---it hurt too much. Joe-Don had tears in his eyes, as he gave me a note. I put it in my pocket to read later, knowing I could not see the words now. I turned with my head up in the air and walked that lonely sidewalk to my class.
That night after I said my prayers, I remembered the note. I searched until I found it. And, as long as I live, I will never forget the words he wrote. He printed: My Love, I am sorry that it is too soon for us. But I will always love you. Love Me Love Me Love Me XOXOXOXOX Joe-Don.
Even today, I can not believe that a first grader wrote such a lovely note, but he did. And so ends the story of my "First Love."
My Joe-Don Updated 02/03/2012
Well, a basket load of years have passed, and my Don-Joe married another, and is happily married and a father of four.
I see him every so often, and for the life of me I cannot recall why I didn't remember to love him in Junior High. I suppose we both found other interests, and forgot about each other---other than being friends.
Sometimes, time is more of an enemy that one will acknowledge. Times makes one forget the very thing one wants to remember. But everything turned out for the best.
I believe that some unanswered prayers are truly a blessing--I feel our prayer for us to be together when we were older--was not answered, and for us it was a blessing.
He will always be my friend, and I will be his.
PurvisBobbi44 is the sole author of this article and if copied anywhere else on the Internet or printed in magazines or books it was taken without written consent and is strictly prohibited.
A Time Revisited
- A Childhood Time Revisited
A Time Revisited is about one's childhood and the fun, friendships, parties,plays and growing up. Learning and recalling lessons learned each year. Having the best teachers who taught with love and controlled classrooms. Teachers are not paid enough
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© 2011 PurvisBobbi44
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