Finally being able to admit and express my grief has been healing. For close to 40 years I felt unable to say my heart was broken at the loss of my childhood friend. It felt like such an admission was tantamount to unfaithfulness (I was accused of that once by one of my own children for simply reading the old letters) and even very early on I was desperately afraid of hurting the guy I'd married, even though my relationship with Joey was no secret from James.
Joey and I shared the fall, winter, and spring of 1972-73. We walked around the block on cold winter days, each asking the other if their feet were cold. (He wore cowboy boots in the snow.) When it was getting dark, and it got dark early, he always walked me home before heading home himself. In the spring we walked some more, and then suddenly he was moving away. I never even met his mother, never went in his house. He had come to mine instead. There are no pictures of us together. Not one.
As a young girl I dreamed Joey into what I wanted him to be. (Isn't that always what we're tempted to do?) But dreams are not reality. Reality is that God gave me a special childhood friend, a box full of letters to cherish, and the incredibly wonderful opportunity to see my friend when we were 14 years old and my family was on vacation in Virginia in the fall of 1978. I was in heaven! (I had my very own football player!!! Number 87.)
Today I'm healing. I honestly am. I've done enough internet stalking (ha
ha!) to settle my heart. I am absolutely nothing like the woman Joe
married, and I don't find myself attracted to the man I see in pictures.
I find it strange, and I am intrigued, even amused, at my lack of
attraction. I don't see anything terrible or offensive, I'm simply not
drawn to him. He is a complete stranger and yet we are connected by a
few months of time and a string of childish letters. (I love it.)
I've dragged taped-shut boxes from place to place for over half my life. Today I'm unpacking those old boxes and letting go. The little box of letters will be forever cherished, but I can stop grieving. It's time to smile at the memories and move on.
Oh my goodness, so tender and bittersweet.
ReplyDeleteGod is doing an amazing work in your life. It is a process but I see the healing in your eyes and the way you write these precious journal entries. What a gift the Lord has given you.
Enjoy this week and all the preparations for the Christmas time.
Sue
It is a relief to finally be able to embrace the childhood love without feeling guilty. Thank you, Jesus, for this wonderful gift!
DeletePraise God for new healing. Funny, those young loves never look at good if you see them as old men. I guess that's why it's good to grow old together...I still see the handsome dark haired hunk I married. Wonder how he see me? HaHa
ReplyDeleteSo glad you are dealing with things and moving on. You are so special and God is doing a beautiful thing in your life and we get to witness it. Love from afar!!
I'm not sure if it's him or her. Ha ha! I am absolutely noting like her. They have a million and half dollar house, multiple cars, a boat, and probably more stuff that I could ever dream of owning. Can you imagine what it must be like trying to keep up that image? I'm tired just thinking about it. I'd rather live in an attic bedroom. (You are beautiful and I'm sure your handsome hunk sees nothing else.)
DeleteDealing with these things is tough. Letting go is tough. A part of me wants to revert back to being 15, but that is not healthy at all, not to mention pointless and pathetic. (Honesty is the best policy, yes?) God is doing beautiful things, and I am ever so grateful.
Love you!