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Forever Young At Heart
In a corner of every middle-aged soul lives the enchanting memory
of those impressive, coming of age years. Those 'Glory Days,' of
which Bruce Springsteen so eloquently sings about, live there forever
young, forever innocent. Though I still may feel 18 at heart, one
look in the mirror quickly sets me straight. It hasn't been easy
but I've finally come to terms with the fact that gravity is no
longer on my side. I am no longer a teen-ager but, rather, a mother
with teen-agers of her own. And, like my mother before me, I have
adopted a habit surely attributed to old age
Every morning, as I wait for the coffee to brew, I glance across
the obituary pages of the daily paper, looking for names I might
recognize. One morning a wave of nostalgia washed over me at the
sight of a name that hadn't been a part of my vocabulary for over
thirty years. There it was, in black and white, the name of my very
first love.
Throughout the years I had, at times, wondered whatever happened
to him - the handsome young man responsible for butterflies to flutter
in my stomach at the mere sight of him, and who unknowingly caused
my heart to skip beats when the phone would ring and it would be
him!
Those were the days of holding hands, and the shy anticipation of
first kisses that told the tale of naive, young love. It was a time
when girlfriends became each other's best defense between the break-ups
and the make-ups. Girlfriends could sing, in perfect harmony, the
words to all the songs of the Jackson 5, back when Michael was just
one of the band. "I Want You Back" and "One More
Chance" were, more often than not, sung through the tears of
high school age heartache while, "I'll Be There" was passionately
crooned as a tribute to the loyalty of our idealistic youth.
Word for word, I can still sing every one of those golden oldies
by heart, just as I can almost taste the savory fried shrimp my
friend Ginny and I use to order from a fast food place called the
"Chicken Coop". Those wonder years of high school are
buried deep in the past, but the emotions accrued will be forever
frozen in time.
I have raised a family and have celebrated over three decades with
my loving husband, my soul mate who is the love of my life. But,
in the privacy of my kitchen that morning I was suddenly 17 again,
as memories were brought to mind by a familiar name among the dearly
departed.
I never knew what kind of man he grew up to be, or what he did for
a living, or even if he had been as fortunate as me to have found
the contentment I have found. In my memory he would forever be the
17-year-old football player that captivated my young heart with
his boyish good looks and unassuming charm.
Life goes on as we find ourselves traveling through the journey
of life, from one season of emotion to the next. There really are
a million miles between the starry-eyed dreams of teen-agers and
the mindful reality of middle age. But at one time or another we
all have opportunities to reflect on those unforgettable times in
our lives. Maybe it's the twinkle in teen-age daughter's eyes when
she speaks of someone special, that ignites a mother's own unfettered
glory days. Or, quite possibly, it happens that a gray haired mom
will find reason to remember the exuberance of her own youth while
exercising an old folk's habit of glancing upon the obituary section
of the morning paper. |
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