Eileen
Before you came, late in the summer I walked to the naval base and climbed the high, barbed wire, military security fence to swim in the pool; going the same route, I got to watch my little brother play Little League baseball; and got my first whistles from the guys in boot camp marching on the grinder.
You were a year younger but so tall and I was so short. You lived in the apartment above us that year in the new, Navy housing development. Remember the playground in back and sometimes the horse in the field next door to it?
There were wonderful hills for sledding and in the heat you got ice cream from the ice cream man - your Dad was a chief. Mine was an enlisted man - we got popsicles. Remember jumping rope when we learnt double-dutch?
Disneyland was born and Davy Crockett resurrected coonskins caps.
A year later, my Dad made officer! We were sent to RI, then; and after a year, incredibly - yours did too. You came! When you had a Dad was in the Navy, it was so rare to have a friend for any length of time ...so very, very rare.
We were in Jr. High School. We weren't neighbors anymore but one town apart, but we still had sleepovers, whispering, sharing what we were learning about sex.
I had a night time paper route, my brother and I walking miles and miles in opposite directions in the rain, snow and nice nights too. And stars, we had stars in the sky then, in the country - always looking up at the night time sky. Suzy - a beloved fox terrier, came into my life as Wake Up Little Suzie played on the radio. We didn't have much time after that.
A sock hop, I remember, the night of the day the music died.
I met my favorite teacher, Mr. Craig in eight grade and I've never fallen out of love with him.
A UFO sighting one night on the paper route, there was another, a few months later in Kentucky. Just lights playing tag in the sky, trying to make me smile – no saucers or little green men – but they weren't from here... and I did smile.
Jimmy, my first and only real love appeared, along with a beautiful, visiting dog we named, Queeny. She stayed with us outside in an alcove between the steps and cellar door. we tried to coax her in but she wouldn't stay so we just kept feeding her and tried to help her stay warm. For an entire New England winter she stayed before she left - just as randomly as she'd come. But not before she had eight puppies in the spring ... and you got the last one, Eileen.
I don't know who moved to Illinois first after that but my Dad was transferred there after six years or so and I hated it. I left my high-school sweetheart and everyone I'd known to move to an even colder place. I was 16 then, you were 15.
God was trying to be kind - against all odds, you followed. And then you moved to California...eventually, I did too.
But we didn't connect until many, many years later when I was out of state and I found you over the phone. I'm back now, Eileen - but I cannot find you... and I'd like to.
