“The last time I saw him was May 23, 1963. It was three days after our high school graduation when he left along with most of the young men in our class. His name being Wesley Wright and he was my high school sweetheart. When I found out he had enlisted in the army I cried myself to sleep for a week straight. Each night my mother came into my room and stroked my back telling me everything would turn out alright, of course at the time I was an emotional 17 year old girl who was hoping to marry this boy leaving for war. You must understand my dear, that those were different times. The war in Vietnam was occurring along with both the Civil Rights and the Feminist Movements on the rise. At that point in time women were expected to marry in our early 20’s, generally just after high school if we did not go to college.
My mother, unbeknownst to me, had applied to the local women’s college on my behalf. She had anticipated that Wesley would go off to war leaving me to discover a life on my own. What she had not anticipated was how much I truly loved Wesley, and he I. While I went through my higher education, Wesley wrote me as often as he could and me to him. I was just so happy to know he was okay and that there was still a possibility for us, for a future together.
All was going well until his letters stopped. At first I assumed he was just unable to write, but weeks turned to months and months a whole year. At this point I had given up hope, what could I do? Wesley had been gone for more than three years at this point and neither his family nor had I heard from or of him in over a year. I was going on my final year of college and all I could do was go through the motions of life, heartbroken once again, though now … Heavens, look at the time; you must be off to bed.”
“But Grandma, I wanna hear the rest of the story!”
“Another time my dear, after all you already know what happens.”
Author's Note
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