.. I wonder.

"I wonder" .. two words, softly whispered, as she trailed off into another world, her world, leaving me to wonder. It was a delightful outline of a day full of tasks; a productive day. Hard labor, trimmed in the spirit of giving and long on effort. I watched, as her fuel filled my imagination, with the bend of her elbow beneath her heavy coat, the kind broad smile she gave to those around her and the pant of her breath, a frosted puff in the cold stillness, as she struggled, than measured each difference her determination made.   I liked the entry.

But, she gave me food for thought ..

Long ago, there was another girl. We were in high school and I was a budding youth looking for direction. As most guys do in their mid-teens, I went to games and dances, wrestling with my shyness. Although bookish, for the most part, I was on fire to be fit. I didn’t have any natural enemy, so my desire was solely inborne out of my need to be noticed. Later I would play football and compete in swimming and diving; finding a spot on my school team and the city conference, as well. But that year, I was just me, thin and lonesome. Girlfriends weren’t new to me. I’d had two or three limited relationships. That means holding hands and making a pest of myself. A very dull fellow, you might say. I was totally unskilled in the game of love. All my ‘loves’ were Catholic and attended the Catholic Church School that I walked passed every morning of the week on the way to my school, down the the same road.

The Good Shepherd Catholic Church held a dance one Friday night. Due to my ‘failures’ with a couple of the girls, that would certainly be there, I wasn’t sure I would go. But I did. I got there a little late and soon found my comfort level. My brushes with romance had made THAT church, my church. I went to Mass every Sunday. I was encouraged to go to catachism classes and formally join, but resisted. So, I had many friends, who were members, by way of family.

At the height of my enjoyment, I felt a gentle touch on my arm and turned with the pull of it, finding myself facing a girl, who was a total stranger to me. Her name was Karen.

I spent the rest of the dance, chatting in the same spot, with Karen. I would never be same again. Karen threw me into the thos of young love. She gave me a reasoning to argue with my parents to see her. She was the first girl I presented to my family and friends, as my girlfriend. I learned the thrill of a french kiss and the comfort of just holding her hand on a walk. She introduced me to brocolli, onion rings .. ‘Chinese’ .. and intimacy. We had pet names and ‘our’ song and friends that would vouch to be the ‘other’ couple on  double dates that dwindled to only the two of us, within fifteen minutes. She made kissing passionate and passion pleasurable. She amazed me.

Karen was also intelligent, curious and lovely. We enjoyed wonderful conversations and long phone calls. I wrote her notes everyday and wove our future into her imagination. She wrote back her undying love amd stoked my fires in ways that burned in every sentence of my next love note. However, we never married. We DID go to the Junior Prom together. We went our separate ways after graduation; college for me and a job with Minute Maid for her. Our Senior pictures were side-by-side in the yearbook.  The day she married, broke my heart. But, THAT’S another story.

Many times, I’ve sat quiet long enough to wander into her memory and say .. I wonder.

It’s been my experience that there’s something special about brown-eyed smarty pants .. the one I opened this entry with, for example. Bright and beautiful with a wide smile, she wrapped me sweetly against her heart and I planted rings of red roses on her snowy flesh .. and breathed deep hungry groans, as she moaned. I would have eaten her alive. Perhaps she knew that .. I wonder.