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A quote: “Ordinary riches can be stolen; real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you.” ~~ Oscar Wilde
I’ll start with a story …
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They didn’t “meet cute” nor were childhood sweethearts. They met, married, raised a family. Kind, loving, modest.
Unremarkable.
They loved each other with a deep, abiding love felt from day one. It was the foundation that made them the kind of ‘unremarkable’ couple who was always there for family and friends.
When she died, he was lost.
Cemetery security guy, finding him yet again after closing, called the cops.
One came, putting him in the front seat, handing him a fresh cup of coffee and, “Here. Call me and I’ll bring you anytime.”
Cop and his wife were unremarkable, too.
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Now, it’s your turn.
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. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license
American Human says: Stop it…grown men don’t cry!!!
Cameron says: Sunset at the beach. For some reason this was something magical and different. And the girl with me was special.
That evening, we made the choice to go against what our generation approved of. The next month we got married. I started my apprenticeship and will make enough to take care of both of us. We’re having kids and we’re homeschooling them.
The friends who mocked us for our choices are no longer part of our lives. We started hanging around other people who thought the same way. It’s been tough but we learned that nothing worth doing is easy.
Dupin says: “It’s beautiful,” he said.
“So calming,” she replied. “Your dream. The Na Pali coast. The cliffs and ocean are so beautiful.”
“I brought a bottle.”
“But of course.”
They sipped Beaujolais quietly. She waved away refills. He wouldn’t mind.
“Head back before it gets dark?”
“Dinner awaits.” She smiled.
He staggered slightly near the edge on the way back.
She kicked his foot, then pushed. He hit fifty feet down the cliff before splashing into the Pacific. He floated quietly, drifting westward. The tour books warned that the next landfall would be Guam.
He’d always wanted to go to Guam.
When I was growing up, I didn’t really see my folks as exceptional. I was sort of aware of the classmates whose parents had divorced, of who was living with one parent and stepparent during the week and visiting the other parent and stepparent on the weekend, or even the one girl who was living with her step-dad and his third wife because her mom and dad were both AWOL. But it was more a matter of knowing that Sandy and I couldn’t do anything on weekends because she had to be in El Paso with her dad, or understanding why Katy couldn’t go anywhere out of town with us because her step-dad didn’t have the authority to give that kind of permission.
It was only when anti-Sharp prejudice really started heating up that I started to see just how unusual they were. There was never any question in my mother’s mind of trying to escape the petty cruelties of those who despised her as a “clone-lover” by disavowing Dad. Although she was probably one of the least space-crazy people in Houston, she didn’t raise a word of objection when Dad announced that he’d accepted the post of Chief Engineer at Shepardsport, on the lunar Far Side. She just applied herself to the necessary training with the same diligence she brought to every other task, and inspired us kids to approach it likewise.
I still remember that last golden summer, those last good-byes to Earth as my folks took us out to Galveston to walk by the seashore at sunrise, down to San Antonio to see the Alamo, over to DFW to visit Six Flags, and Austin for the State Fair. And all through those trips, seeing my folks standing there side by side and looking out at the Gulf of Mexico, or out into the wide-open country of the Lone Star State while we paused at a rest area.
Now I’m grown and have children of my own. I don’t see my husband nearly as often as I’d like, because he’s a pilot-astronaut and spends a lot of his time on missions to other settlements up here. But I make sure our kids see me hugging and kissing Daddy, and being as close to him as an Air Force officer’s wife can be.
Navig8r says: “Seeking out the poorer quarters, where the ragged people go”
Good line for a song, but not for us. That is where they hunt for runaways. Traffickers and predators to capture, agencies to rescue. “Rescue” for her would be return to her home country where the traffickers she just escaped own the streets. For me, parents recently killed in a car wreck and no next of kin, the corrupt, dysfunctional foster system. With laundromats and public showers we keep the crisp, blow-dried appearance of yuppie kids. If we can pull it off until we’re eighteen, we will have better options.
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