Tuesday, August 19, 2014

The Birthday Boy

My husband circa 1989.
Some time ago I met a very special man. He wasn't like anyone else I knew. He treated me like the lady that my mother always told me that I was supposed to be. I wasn't much of a lady then. I was in my teens and was struggling to find an identity that would make me a person - not just a "daughter" or "sister" or whatever. I rebelled against anyone who tried to take care of me. It wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to be left alone. I wanted to make my own decisions and be independent.

It never quite worked out as my curfews just got shorter and my freedoms continued to be taken away. Then he showed up, a friend of my boyfriend at the time. I had left my badge at my boyfriend's apartment and needed to retrieve it. I was late for work and had to go out of my way to get it back, which meant I was running late. And I was never late.

I was dressed in my usual work attire. My long hair done up in a bun and my makeup perfect. I don't remember what I wore but it was probably one of my floor length skirts (because anything shorter was considered indecent by my family) and a modest, professional looking top.

My boyfriend's apartment was dark when I entered. It was always dark. He was a college student on his own and struggling to make ends meet. I didn't mind though. I liked the dark. It somehow made me feel safer. My boyfriend was sitting at his desk to my left, in what was supposed to be the dining area, working on his computer. I knew he wouldn't get up. His first love was that computer and I accepted that for what it was. He didn't look up as I entered.

"I forgot something." I said to no one in particular as I closed the apartment door behind me. Even with the lights off I knew that there was a couch against the back wall of the living room and 2 doors to my right. One a tiny kitchen and the other his bedroom. I gave him a quick kiss, which he barely registered before he started to speak.

"This is Tim." He waved, without looking away from his project, towards the couch. I couldn't see anybody there but I raised my hand and folded my fingers in a sort of wave anyway and gave the mysterious Tim a smile. I don't know why but it surprised the hell out of me when a strong but gentle male voice answered from the darkness.

"Hi." The sound of his voice made all of my senses freak out. I wasn't used to anyone having this type of effect on me - especially a disembodied voice. My heart started to race and I wasn't sure if it was because the voice was that alluring or because there was voice at all.

"Hi" I muttered back as I quickly located the item I had left. I turned and tried again to see the figure. This figure that was sending chills down my spine. But I couldn't. It was just too dark. "Bye." I muttered as I headed for the door, suddenly aware of the time crunch that I was in.

"Bye" I heard him say as I closed the door behind me.

It wasn't until several weeks later that I was able to put a face to that voice. A sweet young airman who would turn out to be the man that I would devote my life to. 24 years later that voice can still send shivers down my spine, make my toes tingle and calm my Irish temper.

I love you and Happy Birthday.