Through the prodding of a 'buddy' of mine, I joined Facebook. It was a few months ago. At first, I just saw it as a blathering site of neanderthals and young'ins looking to connect or 'hook up' (what a generation time lapse has done to that expression. Totaly different today than 20 years ago.') More recently I started getting 'friended' by people I have not spoken to in 30 years. 30 years. Wow. Its been a trip ever since. As my friend base grows, so does my intrigue.
Then a few weeks ago, Mom convinced me to start a family tree. Yeah, I know, boring, tasteless mash. But, after a few days of laptop time I began making progress, downloading and storing Census data, birth certs, death certs, house deeds, etc etc. I'm now over 100 strong in the family, traced to such places as Germany, England, Canada. This is but one side of the family. Its actually intriguing as long as you have the time to spend. Way off topic now.
So, during the research above, I started scanning some photo albums of my family, along with critical documents. I'll compile all of this material and then distribute copies to whomever wishes. Maybe the kids will have a desire to understand their history. Who knows. During my scanning/digitizing efforts, I open a Pendaflex file folder and low and behold I find a couple pictures from my Prom season in 1982. In these pics are my bud Doug Mills, his girlfriend at the time Marianne Hendel, and my girlfriend at the time Megan Barratt (photo on right.) S.H. Calhoun's best byproducts. Wow, was that a toss back and shock to the psyche.
Now for context, this is the 3rd or 4th time Megan's name has popped up in the recent year or so. It began a while ago with my sister, Tammy, stating that she'd visited a restaurant in Merrick (R.S. Jones,) and low and behold who is a waitress there, Megan. Tammy stated that Megan made a point to walk over and say hi, ask about the family, and then casually begin talking about me, asking how I was doing while also proving ending statements of 'He broke my heart.' (This last statement is true, to a point. I admit it.)
It'd been a very long time since I'd last thought about Megan, even longer since we'd last spoke, fleetingly. The mind instantly resolves those various memories, 30 years worth, and studies each one. Looking for reason behind action and anything that can be gleaned from years of mental gymnastics, trials and tribulations. Such as, 'This is what we did on this day, which caused this to happen, which finally resulted in....breakup.' Hmm. Or, 'we did this on this day, argued, made-up, argued a bit more which eventually resulted in...breakup.' Don't get me wrong, the overwhelming majority of the memories are good, true and pure, resulting in some of the best memories of my life. Some of the most important memories of my life. First love. First PDA. First girl home to the family. First, first, first. These firsts will forever be the penultimate in my heart and mind because the first relationship is/was, for me at least, so formative. As I've stated to my wife in the past (and also recently) Megan was anything and everything a good guy could have hoped to be involved with. Special in every way. We spent the better part of a year together, almost always smiling, laughing, holding hands, being there for each other, etc. Sometimes we'd cry and scream in each others arms, but for the 'right' reasons. Just an all around wonderful girl. I have no qualms about saying those things, she was first rate, all the way. She may still be this way, almost thirty years later, I do not know, yet.
Now, here's where I start jumping back and forth, decades between, so fasten the seat belt and hang on.
Megan Barratt. Grew up in Merrick, NY. Lived a couple doors up the street from a Methodist Church. A few blocks from my boyhood home. She was a middle child with an older brother and sister, and also a younger brother. She was 1 year, basically, my junior. I met her in High School. She was helping the school redo display cases in the hallways. I, at the time, was trying to establish a Swim team display case (I was Captain of the team.) We met, talked, I was intrigued, asked her if she wanted to help manage a swim team, she said yes. She started helping and within a week or so, we were double 'dating' with Doug Mills and one of his girls (not sure if Marianne was in the picture yet.) This date consisted of a Friday night trip to Levittown Skates, on Hempstead Turnpike. I was wearing a heavier jacket at the time (November.) Megan dressed to kill, but still conservatively fitted. The night was colder and her jacket light. Being the polite chivalrous guy I am, I offered my jacket, she declined. A few minutes went by and she was still shivering. This was crazy. With that I opened my jacket and pulled her towards me, letting her snuggle in for some warmth. I wrapped my arms around her and we stood, cued in line, waiting to get into the rink. (Hey first time I'd had a girl this close.) 20 minutes pass and one of my friends sees me and asks if Megan was my girlfriend. I was tongue tied. Not even a first 'official' date, not even on my mind really because I was still so clumsy with women-folk, and still a babbling fool. Plus why would THIS girl, beautiful, smart, witty, full of life, want to date me? With that she turns around, looks me in the eyes, instantly melting me mind you, and asks, "well, are we?" I tried to gather the racing thoughts of delight at that prospect and said, "Yes, (a hint of a stammer) we are." That was how I 'asked' Megan Barratt out. ;)
She was beautiful, is still beautiful (from photo's). I'd had a couple of fake girlfriends before, for a week at a time, or not more than a month, to which the most I'd done was held hands, or the occasional kiss. This was totally different. Megan was H.O.T. She laughed at my stupid jokes, looked me in the eye and actually listened to what I was saying (or trying to say because I was still so nervous.) We then began doing everything together. Mills found a steady girlfriend, finally, so we double dated every week. Every week. I got to see Megan both in school and after school, during swim meets. I dragged her to a Monday afternoon swim practice (the only one held after school, the rest were at 5AM.) Coach LaRossa liked her, Loved her as a matter of fact. We went skating, to the movies, boating, to the beach, long drives. Everywhere.
She was my girl, I was her guy. I gave her my class ring, and another very special ring to me, one my grandfather had given me. She wore it on a chain around her neck. We joined track together. Went to parties. All of the things couples typically do. Things started heating up. Describing it kindly, in the haze of 30 years, it was our time. We were each others first. Awkward, deliberate, heavy handed, startling. We were one, together.
A few months had gone by when I came down with Mono. I was home for a week, just before
Easter. Sick as a dog, so we were just talking on the phone. This was a strange interruption in our schedule. Then Easter Sunday comes and there's a knock on the front door, I'm sick, barely existing, convalescing in the living room and in walks this 5' nothing yellow - skin tight Rabbit costumed - Megan (floppy ears, button tassel tail and all.) As I stated, Megan was hot. She filled out every portion of clothing she wore. She didn't due this costume any disservice. I was embarrassed. Me sitting sickly in my home with Megan all chipper and fitted out. She was, frankly, making me all hot and bothered. My father was in the room and I didn't want him to be experiencing all these yellow curves. I was a typical slow thinking, hormonal and emotional teenager. I hadn't showered or shaved (1x per week at that point in my life) and looked a mess. I kept asking myself why would this cover girl want to come see me, or even be dating me for that matter, when I was looking and acting like I did. She pressed on with her task. She wanted me to smile and to brighten my day, my week, my year (my life - wait for it.) I relented. She blew me a kiss and left. That was Megan. She was just a fine fine girl. Had my heart and soul from that first look.
We'd been dating for 6 months at this time. Things returned back to normal from my illness and my mental imperfections. Within a week or so I was invited up to her house for a family dinner. With her father, no less. I'd met her mother, a very nice woman. Not opposed to speaking her mind at all. Me, the boyfriend, could be her best friend at times or the worst enemy the U.S. had ever seen, changing in a split second (depending on conditions, as they were ;0)
I'd left Megan's house late and got home. In the house I'd found my mother sitting at the kitchen table. This was typically our time talk. We just talked about this and that. She asked how Megan was and how the important dinner went. Prophetically, she then began describing to me what Love was. She asked me what I now come to understand as 'Life' questions. She kept commenting on how great Megan was. I said 'yes Mom, I'd stepped into this one by chance and was going to hang on with both hands.' She said 'good choice' for me. I looked up at mom knowing there was something more she wanted to say. I prodded her a bit and she said, "you're young, graduating school, moving on to college and beyond. You should stay with this girl." 'I know Mom, I plan to.' She said 'good.' She then asked if I loved her. "Yes, Mom, I really did." She asked a few questions about those feelings I was experiencing for the first time in my life. Then, in possibly a slip or a calculated statement she said, 'are you thinking about marrying her? If you are, you should.' I stopped and looked hard, mind racing about this. Has my mother the ability to read my thoughts? She said, 'what you've found in Megan, most people do not ever get to experience even once in a lifetime.' She said, 'think about it. Not for today, tomorrow, or next year, but do marry her.' Thinking about it, the hard answers seemed to come quickly, naturally and very easily. After a minute or so of silence I said "I will Mom." She hugged me with a tear in her eye and spirited off to bed.
From that day on, I had that end result in mind. I was going to marry Megan Barratt. Mrs. Megan Metzger. Girls, other girls, didn't exist. The intensity of being with her continued to grow. I couldn't believe anything I was feeling could run so deep, be so natural. I was looking at her as my future wife. I could barely contain my enthusiasm at times. We talked of life plans. We talked of kids. Houses. Towns. Friends. Paint colors. Furniture styles. And, all the future things couples would do together in a life bound in marriage.
....TBC
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