We met on the deck of a relatively large cruising ship. She was bundled, nearly buried in several wool blankets. I smiled at her, thinking what we do sometimes to save a buck.
She nodded, understanding completely. I was a bit taken back when she politely offered to share the blankets with me-meaning that we'd have to spend a considerable amount of time on our 48 hour trip holding onto one another.
I may of hesitated, but quite frankly my resolve was lost in its entirety when I silently ascertained that I'd be with one hell of a natural beauty.
There are certainly worse ways to travel I thought.
The wind tried its damndest to dampen our spirits, but she just seemed to wave it off with a smile.
I waited for some time to pass before introducing myself, looking back, I had my arm around her long before we knew each other's names.
"I'm Jack."
"American, me too."
"Your name?"
She giggled. "Tommy"
"You're joking right?"
"No."
On through the night we spoke, this girl amazed me in conversation. Finally, when the stars began to shine brightly she fell asleep in my lap, I leaned against the railing- wondering how dumb luck had landed me here, in this moment.
Day two we shared crackers and a bottle of wine that she had snuck onto the ship. It actually tasted brilliant, hunger will do that to you, I supposed.
Fall on the seas has a bitter quality, yet somehow I felt considerably warmer holding onto this prescious cargo...
Tommy shared of herself her life story, bitter sweet in nature, though clearly she had risen above its torture. I found that I too, disclosed the most intamate of secrets.
I felt utterly compelled to do so, not knowing where this would lead-not caring either.
That day we walked around the ship, surveying the rough seas, people watching- speculating in a rather humorous nature. Amusing that she could place diologue in others as we stood at a distance entertaining one another.
Truthfully, I never wanted it to end. Sensing that the night was about to close in on us, and realizing that we'd have but this last evening to remain in such close proximaty I leaned into her to share a kiss.
Tommy pulled back "Surely you don't want to do this."
"No, I really do."
She grinned broadly "Then you'll promise to meet me the year next?"
"How can I possibly promise something like that?"
"I don't want a bad goodbye."
"I'm not going to hurt you Tommy."
"I'm already missing you and you haven't left the ship yet."
"If we agree to meet here next year, then you agree to marry me, right here on this bow- got it?"
She laughed at the absurdity but nodded in agreement and instead of knowing my kiss I found her kissing my lips.
Now let me say this. There are times when you simply just know what you know.
I felt that kiss across my body. I knew love from that moment on. I held onto her for the remainder of our time together, never wanting to ever see this to its natural conclusion.
I woke the next day to her having already disembarked and a letter left stuck in my jeans.
"Dear Jack.
That sounds dreadful. Let me start over.
Jack. What a time we had. What a gift to have met you, know your mind, feel your heart and hear your laughter. Of course I will be your wife, if not in our dreams. Who wouldn't dream of this?
Our 48 held more for me then the last of the 5 years that I have known. I will dream of seeing you every night, your strength guiding me as I falter, as I'm sure that I will. You are unique and in the possession of a beautiful soul. I'm not certain as to how anyone could fall in love so quickly, but I knew when you looked into my eyes that it was so.
I will return the year next, I hold promises that I make dear.
If I don't see you, well, then I will remember you in the kindest of order. You'll be the continual story of 'what if' what might have been.
Safe travels, great warmth in the cold, coolness to your skin when the sunbears down with unrelenting heat. Blessed love to your heart if we see each other never again.
Like a child to Christmas, I will believe, if not for the year.
In anticipation,
Tommy"
I smiled through my deepened sadness. Not really a romantic, more a pragmatic man I did not share in her belief. I thought well, this is it. Love found, love lost. I told myself that it didn't matter. It was just a long fall- falling in love, the season, the moment...the ship. It wasn't real.
(One year later)
I went. I booked the very same voyage. I purchased a ring...just in case. No, I didn't really believe that she'd be there, but to be brutally honest- my year had been one of pure misery. I missed her desperately. I honestly felt that I needed a therapist to relinquish the memory impressed upon me of her, of my Tommy.
My heart sank when she was no where to be found and believe you me, I searched.
I grabbed a blanket to warm me as I opened a beer and began drinking my sadness away. A man approached me, his face familiar to me, though I couldn't quite place it.
I glanced up, said hello.
He sat down beside me, a deep sense of worry and pain clouded his eyes.
"She's dying."
I didn't want to hear this. I turned away. Perhaps this man was crazy...
"Did you hear me? She's dying. Tommy couldn't get on the ship because her heart is failing at such a rapid rate that she'd not of made it. We're 48 hours away from her. I can't tell you what to do, or even ask, but her dying wish was to die in the arms of love. I'm her father, this I can surely provide, but my feeling is that she would prefer it be you Jack."
"I don't know what to say. We hardly knew each other."
"Perhaps, but that is a ring box sticking protruding from your pocket is it not?"
I clutched my shirt pocket in embaressment. "Yeah."
"Love has a do many a thing. From experience, most of it unconditional and unselfish-assuming it's real love. Was it real for you?"
"Yes."
"Then let her know that before she's gone to us forever."
48 hours later I found myself at the hospice, holding onto Tommy. I placed the ring on her finger, spoke the words through my tears, and loved her with the last breath that she'd ever take. I wanted to die right along beside her, this is my truth.
All of my dreams, hopes, died with her that fall day.
Subsequently her father and I would scatter her ashes in the sea, both claiming the mist as the reason our faces were soaked with water.
That was 10 years ago. I've since found love again, married. I have a son now, Tommy. He's 2 years old. Probably the most beautiful boy in the world.
I take the trip to Italy once a year, in memory of her, my lost love-though each year it becomes more of a joy, less hurt.
I'm able to see her in all the beauty that surrounds me, my family.
When I find myself saddened, brought down by lifes complexities I am gently reminded that within 48 hours a lifetime can occur
everything can and will change with a blink of an eye.
I have to close this for now. Time to tuck Tommy in.
Funny, he always seems to require so many blankets...
From my hand to yours,
Sawyer
Saint Andrews
