Do you (or did you) see that "T" by my name and assume I'm just another perv?
Be honest, I'm tougher than my skirts make me look.
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SarahAndSamantha · 51-55, T
@SarahAndSamantha We fall in love. But the aspect that gets us to that point is not makeup, a pretty smile, 6 pack abs, a nice walk or a handsome build but kindness. It's never a physical or cosmetic aspect.
Kindness will slay the mightiest. It'l cause us to cry. To smile. To laugh.
Love comes much later.
The 86 year old man went outside with his glass of sun tea that he and his wife had made for years. Of course she had passed on a few years back of natural causes but it was she who started making this 53 years ago when they married. He was used to this and now he made it for days like this when he would go out to sit in his racker and whittle as long as his hurting fingers would let him.
He was whittling a whistle but he had been scraping a dull knife
along the wood for 5 years now never quite getting anywhere. But still--
His thoughts as alway turned to her and the life they led. There were some hard time. There was the conflict in Korea and the end of Cholera where he grew up. Both had taken lives. Then came Vietnam and terrors of that. But there were good times as well and they lay on his mind most often. It was at this time a secret smile would cover his face- one that only he knew the roots of.
He's recall how they met an hour away from the beach and how, when he had enough courage he pursued her until there was date at the beach. The carousel where they sat tight together,(more so than they should on a first date!) the shared cotton candy and caramel apples they had. The sound of the midway barkers--he could remember it all. Courting season could be divine.
He remember how, all those years in the mine and later steel mill she would kiss him on the lips each morning and the forehead each night. He could recall her scent. L'Air Du temp by Nina Ricci. And her Breck shampoo she never strayed from. In his weaker moments he oft wondered if this was done for him-or her.
They would sit together on this same porch on a swing built for two and she would take his hand. Sometimes holding it for what seemed like hours. And there was that tea as well. It had stained more than one dress!
The intimate moments came to him, not any sex. Any remembrance of that was long gone. The simple things she would do that would just make life special or make an ordinary occasion a celebration. Those weer the moments that would forever bring a tear to his eyes.
To him she was beautiful as she was at 19 when he first saw her even thought their looks had faded and their hair was brittle or bald.
Yes there was the love he had for her, and she him, but in his lonely moments is was her KINDNESS, her compassion for not just him but for all that he remembered.
It was that that defined her first as a person and second as a lady.And if truth be told that remembrance, along with a warm sun and a now warm tea was why the carving never got done.
You see, that whistle was to be for her. A gift. Oh the story behind it is not important anymore but there was one.
And while she had been put in the ground a few years back-and while he had come to terms, slowly of her passing, this whistle, this carving was the ultimate closure. And one he couldn't face. Not in this lifetime.
I think.....that by not finishing it he somehow kept her alive. As if finishing it would offer a closure and a end purpose to his being. So great was his love for her.
Where kindness planted the seed of friendship love later blossomed.
And I'd like to believe..(I really would like to..) that those secret smiles was him remembering an act of kindness she performed that touched his soul and enamoured itself to him. I'll never know. We will never know.
But the smallest acts in life mean the most.
Kindness will slay the mightiest. It'l cause us to cry. To smile. To laugh.
Love comes much later.
The 86 year old man went outside with his glass of sun tea that he and his wife had made for years. Of course she had passed on a few years back of natural causes but it was she who started making this 53 years ago when they married. He was used to this and now he made it for days like this when he would go out to sit in his racker and whittle as long as his hurting fingers would let him.
He was whittling a whistle but he had been scraping a dull knife
along the wood for 5 years now never quite getting anywhere. But still--
His thoughts as alway turned to her and the life they led. There were some hard time. There was the conflict in Korea and the end of Cholera where he grew up. Both had taken lives. Then came Vietnam and terrors of that. But there were good times as well and they lay on his mind most often. It was at this time a secret smile would cover his face- one that only he knew the roots of.
He's recall how they met an hour away from the beach and how, when he had enough courage he pursued her until there was date at the beach. The carousel where they sat tight together,(more so than they should on a first date!) the shared cotton candy and caramel apples they had. The sound of the midway barkers--he could remember it all. Courting season could be divine.
He remember how, all those years in the mine and later steel mill she would kiss him on the lips each morning and the forehead each night. He could recall her scent. L'Air Du temp by Nina Ricci. And her Breck shampoo she never strayed from. In his weaker moments he oft wondered if this was done for him-or her.
They would sit together on this same porch on a swing built for two and she would take his hand. Sometimes holding it for what seemed like hours. And there was that tea as well. It had stained more than one dress!
The intimate moments came to him, not any sex. Any remembrance of that was long gone. The simple things she would do that would just make life special or make an ordinary occasion a celebration. Those weer the moments that would forever bring a tear to his eyes.
To him she was beautiful as she was at 19 when he first saw her even thought their looks had faded and their hair was brittle or bald.
Yes there was the love he had for her, and she him, but in his lonely moments is was her KINDNESS, her compassion for not just him but for all that he remembered.
It was that that defined her first as a person and second as a lady.And if truth be told that remembrance, along with a warm sun and a now warm tea was why the carving never got done.
You see, that whistle was to be for her. A gift. Oh the story behind it is not important anymore but there was one.
And while she had been put in the ground a few years back-and while he had come to terms, slowly of her passing, this whistle, this carving was the ultimate closure. And one he couldn't face. Not in this lifetime.
I think.....that by not finishing it he somehow kept her alive. As if finishing it would offer a closure and a end purpose to his being. So great was his love for her.
Where kindness planted the seed of friendship love later blossomed.
And I'd like to believe..(I really would like to..) that those secret smiles was him remembering an act of kindness she performed that touched his soul and enamoured itself to him. I'll never know. We will never know.
But the smallest acts in life mean the most.
@SarahAndSamantha *hugs you while you cry*
@JustGoneNow @SarahAndSamantha Thank you both. In truth I cried as I wrote it.
SarahAndSamantha · 51-55, T
@JustGoneNow I was wondering why they wanted her to change into a bee 🐝. True story, earlier I was trying to hit the butterfly on a reply to you and just as I clicked it, the damn thing moved and I hit the bee instead.
🤗 I still and always will love that whole quote :)
🤗 I still and always will love that whole quote :)
@SarahAndSamantha 😊🖤🤗