A Blizzard of first Love
Listen to this articleYour first love seems so intense as the fresh new infatuation flourishes. I was 16 and she was 15-1/2. I was inexperienced , naive and for lack of a better word, innocent. I had no idea of the path this dawn of love was going to take me on.
My first kiss was on a late, cold and rainy early November night. I walked her home from a school concert through the light rain and wind. We had just begun to hold hands, which was huge for me! There is something special about the touch of another human that you have feelings for. As we stood together on her front porch saying goodnight the raindrops suddenly turned to huge fluffy snowflakes falling all around us.
Almost simultaneously she put her hand on the back of my neck and pulled our mouths together. A wonderful warm feeling washed through me. My innocence met passion for the first time. We kissed again and she said goodnight. My face was ablush and I held that warm buzz with me through the long walk in the snow. The gift of those surreal snowflakes made things appear dreamlike all the way home. Things were never the same, a flame had been ignited in my young soul.
We went steady for a year or so before I went off to college about 120 miles away. I never felt loneliness like I did those first weeks at school. I was homesick and intensely “lovesick.”
I sent letters every week and waited intently for hers. My first semester’s phone bill was over $300. There were no computers for emails and no cell phones for cheap calls and texts. It was a struggle to get through that first semester emotionally intact. During February of the following year she called and said she was coming through Albany, which was 15 miles from Troy.
She had been visiting some family in upstate. I told her I would jump the bus from downtown and be there by noon. We could spend some time together and I could come right back. Seeing her would be great!
I scraped together all of the cash and loose change I had an hustled down the steep hill to the bus station. It was cold and cloudy with no snow on the ground to get in the way. The anticipation of seeing her made the 45 minute trip fly by.
We met in front and ran into each other’s arms. We sat blissfully on a bench inside and traded small talk and hand holding. It was a busy Sunday afternoon and in no time her bus to Newburgh was announced. I had taken this route before on trips home. Then a great idea hit me. I asked her to wait, ran over to the counter and scored a ticket on her bus . She thought it was such a wonderful gesture. I knew I could catch the turnaround trip right after and would be back by midnight.
The trip was roughly 90 miles but this bus route stopped at every little Hudson River hamlet along old route 9W. It was a boring, bouncy, 2.5 hour trip, but at least we would be together.
About an hour into the ride, we both nodded off. When we awoke, snow was pouring down. By the time we reached the outskirts of Newburgh, the road was covered with more than 3 inches. It had turned into a blinding blizzard. We walked out into the storm and her parents were there waiting in their car. I said goodbye, don’t worry and rushed into the bus depot.
“What time does the bus leave for Albany?”
“Oh … I’m sorry all buses have been grounded due to the storm till further notice.”
“Maybe tomorrow after the storm.”
I had an inkling to call my parents but I didn’t want them to worry and Dad was probably deep into his booze by then. I also knew there would be no way they could get through this to rescue me.
I sat in the station till they closed at around 9:00 and I stepped out into the white out. I was ill prepared to navigate this, no gloves, sneakers, no hat and barely a suitable coat.I was praying for and hopefully found a pub or restaurant that might stay open till 1:00 am. or all night. In a block or so I saw the warm lights from Kelley’s Pub. I stepped in. As expected there were only two patrons at the bar. Behind the bar was a curly haired 40 something classy lady who smiled warmly at me. “What brings you in here on this terrible night?”
I told her my story and she smiled with that, “how romantic” grin. I asked for a cup of coffee and watched some sport program on the bar TV. Soon, the last patron said goodbye and she and I were alone chatting about life. “I made some stew tonight, would you like some?”
“That would be very cool but I’m short on cash.”
That probably being an understatement.
“That’s okay, it’s on me.”
“Are you sure? That’s awesome. I owe you.”
It was a much needed and appreciated meal. I hadn’t eaten in 24 hours. It was warm ,tasty and filling. She was an angel.
By 10:00 she said she had to close up and get home before the storm got any worse. “Honey, I’m closing down now, do you have a place to go?”
“Is there any chance I could crash here?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t do that,” she added sympathetically. “You might try the all night diner down the street and right on 5th.”
I thanked her profoundly and she responded with a warm hug that propelled me into the blinding snow and wind. I was so ill-equipped for this that in a few yards the chill was through me and my feet were freezing. There was 18-20 inches of powder with high drifts along the buildings. I trudged to the diner barely visible through the veil of snow. Upon entering I asked if it would be cool to crash there for the rest of the night. The waitress was alone with one patron, likely her beau at the counter.
“Sure, hopefully we don’t have to close. Unfortunately our heater just went out so it’s going to be really cold.”
At that point I had no options. I huddled in a cold vinyl booth up against a wall. It was barley 40 in there and I could see my breath. Every agonizing minute was spent trying to get warm. I dozed off a time or two and by about 5:45, the storm had subsided. The sky was clear with bright stars. The slightest twinge of morning sunrise highlighted the deep blue sky. As I stepped out, everything was still and the air crisp. Walking was only accomplished on the partially plowed roads to the bus depot.
The station was open and the heat was a blessing. After a few minutes of recovery I approached the clerk. “One way to Albany please.”
“The next one is at 2:45 this afternoon.”
“Okay, whatever works, thank you .”
As I reached into my cold empty pockets the hard reality struck, I had 80 cents left. I asked if they could take an IOU and of course that was a long shot — of course they couldn’t. My last hope was to call Sue. I called from the outside pay phone with the change I had left.
“Hi, I’m still in Newburgh, all night and I’m out of cash.”
“Oh God, all night?”
“Yep, it was brutal.”
She put her dad on the phone who was also my golf coach. “Hi , I’m going to wire $40 to the Western Union desk at the bank down the street. Go there and it will be in your name.”
I waited at the depot till 9 and picked the cash up as soon as I could. I bought the ticket, had a snack and dozed off until the boarding to Albany was announced.
The circuitous trip was endless, I finally got to Troy at 10:45 pm. and it was another hour of scrambling up the slippery hills to my dorm. Almost two days lost in the name of love.
In a few weeks, I went back to Kelley’s to thank her and she sweetly refused the money for that lovely stew. My relationship with Sue coasted into the summer. I was gone weeks at a time on working a carnival job. Her voice became more distant on my calls and after one fair, I raced home in the middle of the night to see her. I threw pebbles at her window and she came to the door.
“Hi, what are you doing here ?” she said sleepily.
“Well, I missed you and I wanted to see you.”
“Cliff, I have to tell you I’ve been dating this guy I met at a party, I’m sorry.”
There was nothing left to say. I turned and drove off and didn’t look back. I didn’t want her to see how badly I hurt. On that same porch that I had my first kiss, she reached into my chest and ripped my heart out! This shouldn’t have ended this way but how else could it have ended ?
I only cried once, probably over the loss of a friend, a broken heart, broken trust and a broken ego. Then I let it go. My friends who knew her would update me a few times about her biker boyfriend, her substance abuse and her loss of character. This was her escape from the chains of her controlling parents. I didn’t care anymore. No sour grapes either. About 4 years later I was in town with a few of my friends for my bachelor party. We had been hitting some of my old haunts and the last one was the “Station” where we could play some pool and end the night. It was getting late and there were only a few stragglers left.
As we started playing, sitting at the bar was an attractive brunette by herself. The juke box was playing some new rock music in the background. As I looked over she turned towards me and our eyes met. It was her, at the bar by herself. I recognized her and she me. We both kind of froze in disbelief and she made this little gesture wave. I turned away and told the guys that we should go. As I started walking out, I looked again, our eyes met again. At that same moment the juke box was playing “It Feels Like the First Time” by Foreigner. My mind was totally blown as we walked out.
Not to end this there, about 15 years later, I had moved to California and sadly I was in the middle of a divorce. One random night I received a call. “Hi Cliff, this is Sue, do you remember?” I was stunned, she had contacted my sister in search of my number. She proceeded to tell me in tears how sorry she was and that she had never stopped loving me.
Incredibly she wanted to see me again. I calmed her down, thanked her for the very fond memories and told her it was just an early midlife crisis.
The fantasy of what she thought she had and missed didn’t exist anymore. My only desire, I told Sue, was for her to have a great life.
That year I was blessed and met the true love of my life and we are celebrating our 30th anniversary. To this day when I see heavy snowflakes falling it brings back warm memories, all good. First love leaves an indelible imprint on your heart forever.
“The Rhythm of a Broken Heart”
AFTER A WHILE
After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security,
And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises,
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,
And you learn to build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn …
That even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure …
That you really are strong
And you really do have worth …
And you learn and learn …
With every good-bye you learn.
(by Veronica A. Shoffstall)
