Desperately Seeking Susan

Susan . . that name is ringing in my heart this morning, as a precious song.  I just finished writing to the sister of my high school sweetheart.   Any of you that have been around long enough or searched my passed entries far enough back, will recognize the name ‘Karen’.   Thoughts of her carried me through graduation, college and into my career.  I still have my moments.  She initiated my sexual growth and with it, set a standard that still influences. 
 
The family was comprised of three sisters, a mom and a dad.  Karen was the oldest, followed by Susan, a year later and then, Valerie, two years younger than Susan.  Dad was in the Air Force, stationed in Orlando, but not until the family had made many moves every couple years throughout the world.  Mom worked in the home. 
 
You might say, I’m ‘Desperately Seeking Susan’.  
 
Karen was certainly not my only girlfriend in high school.   She was, however .. the best example of the whole package.  Her eyes were doe-eyed brown, with a wide white smile, framed by seductive pink lips.  She was 5’7", outgoing and an embraceable 120 pounds.  I lived a 15 minute slow walk from school, but left on foot with Karen, through the back entrance  daily and escorted her home, her books tucked under my arm with mine.  We talked about everything in that hour together and I relived every word and idea of our conversations on the walk back home.
 
I think Susan envied her sister.  Whatever the reason, when we were around her, she tried very hard to capture my attention .. and did, most of the time.  I liked Susan on a different level from the romancing of Karen.   We were adversaries.  She became my friend, though.  The one I relied on, some time later, to feel still ‘in the circle’, until the doors that were closed to me, muffled her voice.   She was also a brown-eyed brunette, but wore her hair long.  A splash of freckles spilled over her nose and cheeks on skin with a darker hue, than Karen’s.  She stood an inch or two smaller, but weighed about the same as her older sibling.  I can remember times that it crossed my mind that she was a beautiful girl in her own right.  But, I was swayed in that, by her taunting and teasing, her wit and resourcefulness that kept me on my toes and made Karen scream and rant.
 
Once Karen and I were history, part of what I missed was my relationships with the rest of her family.   To complicate that, I returned home from college in Tampa one weekend (much later) and heard through  friends that something tragic had happened to Susan.    Karen had already married by that time ..  some guy in his mid-twenties.  Someone she’d met at Minute Maid, where she worked after high school.  She didn’t go on to college, as I had.  The news was that Susan had been driving with her sister Valerie and had a very nasty accident that killed Valerie instantly.   The accident not only took her little sister, it took one of her legs as well.  I was in shock.  Their old number no longer worked and,  for a long time, I was beside myself, without a way to express my emotions.   I had to return to school with my grief unresolved. 
 
In writing Susan today, I’m attempting to cross an old bridge that may not hold my weight.
I’ve made it clear, that my intentions are to allow a dear memory, the opportunity to smile from the center of me again.  Nothing in her life has changed the feisty foe that called me a ‘butthead’, when I bettered her.  It would just be nice to visit for spell.  I need it and I hope she does too.  If that isn’t okay .. I still have dear memories  .. of Susan.