Whispers of Wishes and Dreams

I had wishes and dreams. Wishes to be rich. Wishes to be beautiful. Dreams of prefect love. Wishes to be happy. Wishes, Dreams, and more Wishes. I would make a wish before blowing out the candles on my birthday cake, and to come true you couldn't tell anyone or speak before taking that first bite of cake. Looking up into the early twilight skies I would search for that first star to make a wish. Search the night sky for the ever elusive falling star for the possibility of making a wish come true. Throw a coin in a fountain and make a wish. Make a wish while blowing dandelion seeds in the wind. Hold tight to one side of the wishbone of cooked turkey, make a wish and pull. Look for a four leaf clover. Put a penny in your shoe. Slip a piece of wedding cake under your pillow. Put your wishes on paper and place in a box.

All these things I did, not just once but over and over. And, I was even encouraged to do them on occasions. I really don't remember putting cake under my pillow but I did think about it. The only thing that could bring would be a mess. They were sometimes amusing things to do but they never worked. Maybe my wishes were just impossible. So I just took all my wishes and put them in a box. I would open that box once in a while and amuse myself with what I had written and discard the impossible wishes or dreams and sometimes even replace discarded wishes with new ones. It was kind of like keeping a diary only it didn't tell of the day's disappointments or secrets. It was only pieces of paper with mostly single words written on them. It wouldn't reveal daily disappointments or secrets but after a while it did reveal a lifetime of disappointments. So, I took that box less and less from it's hiding place and soon I found it gone. Tossed with all my wishes inside. I had grown up and became very adult and realistic. I would no longer be amused by what that box held. It became a coffer to hold my disappointments. I would no longer close my eyes and make a wish.

I had decided to grow up and face reality. Life was what I made it, not based on wishes and dreams. So, I had taught myself not to be trusting of dreams, relationships, people. But, before I gave up trusting people and relationship, I had already given up on myself. I couldn't see that at the time. I was the cause of those wishes not coming true. I didn't have the courage to think that they could come true. I would rely on the moment with no desire to look for a forever relationship.

Others saw this as independence and some even saw as arrogance. I would never be disappointed if I didn't reveal feelings or attachments. And, I didn't. I didn't have the courage. But, my closest friends would tell me I was full of courage because I was living what they wanted. My sister-in-law was at times envious of my lifestyle. I was going out to really nice places, buying expensive clothes, living without responsibility. She loved my freedom. I wasn't free. I was a slave to avoidance. I did like dressing up and being taken places but I never let myself break the barrier I put in front of relationships. At one point, I even dated someone that was threatening because I knew that it would never lead anywhere. I was looking for disappointment. And, when I did date the one my sister-in-law and parents thought was perfect I no longer enjoyed going out with him because he would try so hard to be what I wanted him to be. I changed my attitude and yet he would tell me he could change. We did end up being friends when we could be comfortable with who we were. Not trying to be something he could never be and my not looking for ways to devalue a relationship.

I saw men break the rules that exclusive relationships should have and was exposed to cat calls, inappropriate touching, and indecent proposals. So, I stayed aloof and distant.

Then there was you. We began to learn things about each other. Not the intimate things that you learn from close friendships or relationships. It started with small things, like you were a flirt. You enjoyed being in the company of women, mostly younger. You enjoyed talking about history, airplanes and your war. You liked gin and tonic, smoked Salem and always tried to appear the gentleman. Always opening doors, extending a hand or arm or lighting cigarettes for women that were around. Your gentlemanly manners did not apply to your asking for a kiss, calling me "babe", or slapping my butt. I can't explain why I didn't classify you with all the other rule breakers. I was not easy to get to know and tried to reveal very little about myself.. I liked gimlets, smoked Winston (hated menthol's), often refused any gentlemanly offers and could be very stand offish. But, you never once (or so it seemed) stopped trying to engage me in conversation and pursue my company. When I would refuse to allow you to open a door or take your hand, you would just step back, smile and sometimes wink. Over the course of six years, I learned to like being with you, first as part of a group and then with it being only us over coffee and then dinners. You had me looking for that first star at twilight, searching for four leaf clovers as we laid in the grass, and throwing coins in a fountain. I was making wishes. I felt beautiful. Was happy. And, felt so loved. I dared to dream with you. I learned dreams can come true if you dream and trust.

We were both reaching for the stars, caught each other's hand and held on tight.

If only I could have one more wish - I would wish you happy anniversay.

October 9th, 2012 and another anniversary. This one not shared with you but, because of you. Our celebration of 39 years of love is still a celebration of love because of the fulfillment of our dreams and wishes. An anniversary celebration spent with our daughter and granddaughter over a casual dinner and talk of family. The conclusion I drew from our dinner conversation was that we may not have been seen as the typical family but we had accomplished our dream of unending love. The proof seen in the love that exists in your children still remembering and finding a celebration in our anniversay.