Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Dear God,

I was 16 years old when I moved far away from my small Indiana town. Sacramento, California in 1963. What a crazy world of hippies, yippies, flower children, drugs, and Hell's Angels motorcyclists. Our world was tipped topsy turvy. It was extremely difficult transitioning from the Bible belt to the what do you call it.

Our family of six moved into the "cracker box." That's what Daddy called it. And the inside of our house was wallpapered with big, really big flowers. There were three tiny bedrooms. We had to put most of our stuff in storage.

I was ready to begin my senior year and talk about lonely. I was so lonely for friends I left behind. How do you adjust from a school of 500 in the Midwest with lots of friends to a huge school of 2000 where seemingly ever kid drives their own convertible? Really tough year. I made one or two friends, but none I would invite to my home.

I did win awards that year. Business education student of the year. I could take shorthand faster than anyone in class. (I still write it, on paper and in the air) I was the best all around student, probably because I had no real friends to distract me.

That Fall as I began school I got a letter from an old boyfriend. He had been a senior when I was a freshman. We dated for a while. He was a very nice boy, a gentleman, kind and thoughtful. But I lost interest and he graduated and got a job. Not college material.

He had a very difficult time getting over our breakup. He called my mother and pleaded with her to help us get back together. Mom liked Eddie but knew I needed to be my own person. For months he would call and I refused to talk to him. Finally he went into the military.

During my lonely days in California, I thought of Eddie. And one day the letter arrived. He told me he still cared for me very much and hoped we could one day return to our former relationship we shared three years earlier. He would be home at Christmas and would love to see me if I was coming home.

I had already begun working at Frankies, a burger joint just around the corner. I was a clever worker. I created new food items, especially ice cream. I made peanut butter shakes long before anyone thought of putting peanut butter and ice cream together. It was really fun. People loved my concoctions. I saved my money to fly back home to Indiana at Christmas time.

A week after I received Eddie's letter, I learned that he was on his way home driving late at night somewhere in the Dakotas when he fell asleep at the wheel. His car went off the road, flipped and landed upside down. He died instantly.

That Christmas our whole family drove home together. We used the money I had made from my part time job since expenses were very high in California. I was glad to have my family with me.

I visited Eddie's mother who wept when she saw me. She told me of Eddie's loss through the years, how he loved me and wanted to marry me. She gave me a beautiful cross necklace for Christmas. She kissed and hugged me goodbye, urging me to return again. All I could do was cry. I was just 17; I couldn't take it all in. I felt guilty, sad, depressed. So many emotions!

It was on November 21 that Eddie died. The moment I typed the date, I remembered his death. Odd, after all these years, 43 to be exact.

Events shape us, make their mark on us. Our vast brain cells store away the information and kick it out at strange times. We never forget; it's just tucked away for future reference.

I wonder how different my life might have been if I had married Eddie and stayed in my small town. I am sure I would have been treated wonderfully. I am sure he would have loved me very much. But I'm just as sure that I would never have developed as I have throughout these many years. God had a different plan for me, a plan A, B, C, D. I'm convinced I didn't work with plan A in the beginning. I just couldn't see it, wasn't as much in touch with God, talking but not listening very well.

I thank God for Eddie's life. He was a neat, loving person. I know he delighted his parents with his life, a life cut short. I am thankful for my relationship to him and what he taught me about being sensitive, kind and thoughtful. 43 years later.

Almighty God,
the mind is a wondrous instrument.
I am always astounded
by memory that emerges from the past.
Frequently events come to mind
and I think of what I received,
learned, from others.
Was I truly grateful at the time
or am I revisiting my past
in order to give thanks and learn?
You are always teaching me;
I hope I am a better student now.
Thanks for Eddie and his mom,
for their gifts to me.
I will always be grateful.

Love, Andrea