Created By

Dustman99

Rate this Story

Embed

Someone recently asked to tell them what love feels like. My reply was short, but to the point. I said Love cannot be explained in words, but shown in actions. Websters Dictionary defines love as an emotional attachment, or relationship to another being. I do not even think it is possible to fully experience love just in words. You must feel it. When I think of love, I think of this..........Let me paint it for you.........Emily Hamil loved John Wayne movies, and for hours would watch them as she crocheted blankets for her grandchildren. She was a portly woman in her in her late seventies with curly blonde-gray hair. She wore glasses, and chain smoked uncontrollably. Her skin resembled leather, and her breathing was irregular. She would crochet all day long until the lamplight was the only light that existed in the small corner she called "her area". It consisted of a chair, and a end table completed with a coffee table. Around them all were piles of yarn, uncompleted blankets, and things she bought for her grandchildren at garage sales. Sitting on the end table was an ornate lamp with cherubs carved into the glass, it was very beautiful. Next to the lamp stood a photograph of her late husband Nick Hamil. She would smile, and remember all the good times they had together.".How did you meet him,?" I asked. "OH.. well its a long story," she replied. I have all day I promptly answered. "Ok, If you insist..(she laughed) we met at a high school football game that he played in on October 14, 1957. It was dark so the field was lit by very tall stadium lights. It was cold, and I remember bringing my blanket that my mother crocheted me. The field was muddy, and was covered in multi colored golden brown, and red leaves. He was a senior, and the team quarter back, and I a junior, and I remember sitting on the stands watching him. I had such a crush on him. (She laughs as she tells me the story.) He was the star of the show, and everybody loved him. He was the town hero. I however, was just a small town girl. (She continues her crocheting, and every once in a while would glance up at the television to watch the John Wayne movie). I had many friends, but didnt fit in with the popular crowd for I didnt have the money to buy the clothes that they donned every day. So silly it was I know (she laughs) Anyways, the game had ended, and I was walking off the stands. There were many people so I had to wait for them to clear out. They finally cleared out, and I went to step down, and wouldnt you know I tripped on my blanket and I fall off the stands over the chain link fence, and into some mud.(she laughs so hard that she starts to cough) "Dont ever start smoking Dusty." she said." I don t intend too", I said." I was so embarrassed that I didnt even want to get up. I would have rather just laid there in that mud forever. (laughs again). Thats what I intended to do until Nick came over and helped me up. I was so embarrassed, and my luck of course that my crush had to help me up. We started talking after that, and every now and then he would remind me of my fall into the mud. We would meet every Friday after school at Big Daddy Franciss Ice Cream Parlor. We would sit there for hours, and talk about everything, and nothing all night long. (She laughs) It would be everybody there was me , Nick, Paul, Johnny, Sammy, Lil Knuckles, the Morse brothers, fat Ron, and I cant forget Bobby, akaVictory. Bobby Victory was Nicks right hand man, and best friend. He was the best wide receiver on the football team, and together they were like a well oiled machine out there. Those were good times. (she smiled)I finally was able to hang out with the cool kids.(she laughed) Aah the things you worry about when you are young(sighs) Nick graduated later that year and went to Greenbrook Community College on a football scholarship. I would graduate soon after, and I would eventually meet up with him. I went for accounting. I hated accounting. I wanted to be a nurse. What was I thinking? "(she laughed) "Never let your parents dictate to you what you are going to be Dusty". she said. "I never do." I replied. "Our little group disbanded, and I never really saw them much other than a little visit in a grocery store here and there. Bobby Victory enlisted in the army, and I heard he lost an arm due to sniper fire. He was discharged, and now lives in central Alabama and has three kids, and is divorced from his wife. Nick and I would soon move on out of college and get married. January 22, 1965, we married outside behind my mothers house beside the family pond. It was so beautiful, and the grass was so green. My family was so happy, and so was his. (She starts laughing) Bobby Victory came up from Alabama. I remember that he was smoking, and the cigar fell from his hands and caught the cake tables cloth on fire. (she slaps her knee, still laughing.) He was so red faced. It was one of the best days of my life. July 2, 1966, I was pregnant with my son Michael. I was at my sisters playing cards, and I felt my water break. Nick was at work, and rushed to the hospital as soon as he could. Michael was 7 pounds 7 ounces. He was born with a full head of blonde hair. I remember taking him home, and staring at him for hours. We had many good years together. Michael grew up being infatuated with fire trucks, and often spoke becoming one. On March 31, 1985 he was eighteen and he applied to Apple Valley Fire Department. He did complete that dream.. Today he is a police officer, and a lieutenant in the fire department. (sighs) I am so proud of that boy. Well, right about when Michael was eighteen thats when Nick started to get sick. He would always be sweating, and complaining of stomach pains. I brought him to the hospital, and we found out that he had colon cancer. For about a year or two he was fine, we went through all the treatments, and did everything the doctors said. Then one day it was as bad as it had ever been. I watched him wither away to nothing. His voice weakened, and his hair fell out. He lost about forty pounds. September 23, 1987, my husband fell asleep and never woke up. He went easy. I remember crying on my knees at his hospital bed. I cried there for a long time. The nurses came and brought me back to the lobby. They handed me a coffee, but my hands were badly shaking I couldnt even hold it. Our life kept flashing in my head, football, and Big Daddy Franciss, and green grass. Michael, Oh my god where was Michael I had thought. He came into the hospital a couple of minutes later still wearing his firemans suit. He walked in, and quickly understood what happened and quickened his pace to me, and gave me a huge hug, and we cried together. The following Saturday we had his funeral. It was the most depressing day of my life. At the wake we had a table of all the things that he loved in life. I had placed his football jersey from high school, his college varsity captain letter, Michaels baby blanket, and the blanket that my mother crocheted me that I tripped on when I fell in the mud that day. (sniffling she wipes a tear from her eyes) he loved that blanket. We would often look at it together, and remember the day we met. " "Do you still have this blanket?" I asked. She reached to the side of the chair and pulled out a wooden box. It was a glossy oak with fancy heart decorations embossed on the cover. She opened it, and there it was. "I never washed it. I never wanted to ruin the memory. Go aheadtouch it"   I reached over her lap, and touched the embedded, and dry dirt crusted into the fabric. It crumbled in my finger tips." It feels like I am stepping back into time." I said. (she laughed) "I do that often. Sometimes when I am alone I will look at this blanket for hours, and relive every second of that moment on October 14, 1957."  "Why havent you moved on?" I asked. "Well, Dusty.you seeone day you too will fall in love, and will understand what it means, and what it feels like. Once you love someone you will do anything to make them happy. You will wait for them at any cost. Nick was the only man for me, and I couldnt imagine being with anyone else. He was my football star, my friend, my lover, my husband. No one else is worthy enough to fill those shoes." (she wipes another tear from her eyes). She placed the box back into its place beside the chair, and continued crocheting the blanket that she was working on, glancing up at the television every once in a while to see what John Wayne was doing. "Well thank you Mrs. Hamil for your time. I think this will suit well for my English class". "Never a problem Dusty. I went to walk out when she said, Oh Dusty wait for just a moment." I turned as she got up out of her chair. "I have been crocheting this for a couple of weeks now, and I have completed it. I wanted to give it to someone who would enjoy it as much as I have." She unfolded it, and I was shocked to see what it was. Sprawled out before her was the same blanket that her mother had made her. "This blanket has brought me much love, and a great life. I wish to give it to you now, and wish the same for you."( She smiled as she put it into a bag for me.)" Thank you Mrs. Hamil," and with that I left for my English class. I was only fourteen then. I didnt really know what she meant. I was doing a biography report for English. Emily Hamil eventually passed away of lung cancer, and I heard that they buried her with her blanket. She would have wanted that. As for me. I eventually got married. My wife is the most beautiful person that I have ever met. We have been happily married now for ten years. Sitting on the edge of my daughters bed. I reach over and tuck her in. Making sure the blanket that Mrs. Hamil gave me was snuggly around her so as not to come lose. I kiss her on her forehead, and slowly close the door behind me so I do not wake her up.

Love is not a bunch of words, but life shared between two people. It doesnt matter how young you are, or how rich. It is every moment that you are lucky enough to share with that person. Every kiss, every fight, every laugh, never forgotten, and categorized in a mental folder. Every memory.........never taken for granted.........two lives but always.. one together.

In loving memory:

Dorothy June Allen

1927-2002