Part XIV

Part XIV

Move south with him???  Seriously?  I was unprepared for the shocking wave of emotions that rolled through my body as he relayed his true feelings to me.  Yes, I had just been looking for him to give me some sort of direction or insight in to where his feelings lay, but I wasn’t prepared for him to have in mind me leaving all I knew - my friends, my family, my summers at home – to follow him in his Air Force training.

Laying my head on his chest as his arms engulfed me, we were both conscious that I hadn’t spoken a word.  

Truth was, I didn’t know quite how I felt and it scared me.  His heartbeat was steady and sure, which mirrored his emotions towards me.  He was always so steadfast when it came to us – never fearing, never wavering, never second-guessing.  I, on the otherhand, mirrored the waves beneath us – ebbing and flowing, crashing and pummeling – never sure when I’d be far or near. 

“Trav?”  I broke the silence first.  My head was still on his chest, straining to hear his heart, for comfort of its sureness.

“Hmmm?”  The sound was deep in his chest and I felt it’s vibration beneath my cheek.

“I don’t really know what to say, but I feel like I need to talk.”

Silence ensued as he patiently waited for me.  “Ummm…” I began awkwardly, “move down there with you?  Like just find an apartment and be there while you’re in pilot training?”

“Ya, I guess that’s what I was thinking,” he ventured on.

“With no friends?  So far from family… what would I do while you’re at work all day?  Or studying?  It’s just such a big step… I don’t know.  Seems a little odd.”

“I haven’t really thought so far as to what you’d do, per se, I just want you down there with me.  I hate this long distance,” Travis mused.

I sighed.  So did I.  “So do I,” I admitted in a softer tone.  “But Trav, do you really think it could work?  I mean, look at us.  We can hardly keep our hands off each other now.  Given another year of dating and then living in a place with no accountability…” I trailed off, hoping he was catching my drift.  We both desired to keep the marriage bed sacred, meaning no sex until the wedding night.  Our immense attraction and young hormone levels already surged with each and every day spent together.  I knew it was next to impossible to even consider such a move without compromising some area of our relationship. 

Heaving a deep breath, he pushed me gently from his chest and looked down at me.  “You’re right, Jen.  I guess I hadn’t thought that far.  I probably spoke too soon.  You’re right.”  He ran his fingers through his sandy-colored hair.  “We’ll figure it out.”  Draping his arm across my shoulders, he led me away from the pier and back to our car.  We had mere hours left together before we went our separate ways once again and we both wanted to spend them together, happy.  Not fretting about what the future might hold.

*

As fall continued, we were faced with another two and a half months of separation before we could see one another again at Christmastime.  I busied myself with school, friends, jobs so to make the time pass more quickly.  And while I anxiously counted down every morning and evening the days left until I could be in his arms again, I also sensed that I should capture and savor every moment left here – in my tiny apartment, mashed together with three of the best friends a girl could ask for, a carefree lifestyle, and the tiny, beautiful moments of Minnesota that one only notices once it’s gone.  Continually impressed upon my heart was the fact that life was soon to change – the comfort and security of my life, as I knew it, was soon to be altered.  For good, of that I was sure.  But still, I found myself tearing up at odd moments, trying to hold captive a precious moment or two – knowing that these present times were soon to be distant memories that only could be relived through dreaming.

Finishing up my finals, I found the earliest possible flight home.  I was restless to be with my family again.  I loved going to school in Minnesota, but I hated that it entailed me only seeing family twice a year.  Those visits were just too few.  Plus, the earlier I got home, the earlier I was to see Travis.  He was due to arrive in our home town just days after me, and he was able to get two weeks of leave off of work – priceless!  I was thrilled to have any time with him longer than three days at a time.

Arriving home, I was engulfed in that same familiarity that I longed for and loved.  Warmth, acceptance, home.  It was what made Christmas Christmas.  For those few days I had to spend completely with my family before Travis arrived, I found myself pondering how the Lord had changed my life in the mere span of a year’s time.  Last year at this time, I had just dumped Boyfriend #2 and was happily settled in at home for a relaxing Christmas break, completely unaware that Travis would soon flounce right into my life.  I had to laugh.  Life was so unpredictable, no matter how much of a planner one is – life has a way of rearranging itself to fit the mold of something completely different and zany.  That night, I would trade laughter for tears at how volatile life would be.

I got the phone call late into the evening before Travis was to arrive.  “Hey babe!”  I chirped cheerily.

Silence.  Then a stifled sob.

“Travis!  What is it?”

“My grandpa just died.”  His words hit me like a brick wall.

“What?”  I whispered.

“He just died.  He was shoveling snow… *sobs* … then he just fell over.  He had a heart attack.  Grandma tried to do CPR on him, but… *sobs* … he wouldn’t revive.  Oh Jen…” and he dissolved into tears.  I had never felt so helpless.  I had never experienced this Travis before, weeping and so broken.  All I wanted was to be with him, holding him, telling him it would be alright.  But it wouldn’t.  I knew.  This Grandpa of his was his hero.  Tommy and Travis could talk endlessly of this man, and rightly so, as he had the most winsome personality, a droll sense of humor, the brains of a genius, and a smile that could melt a heart of stone.  I had the privilege of meeting him the previous summer at Tommy and Olivia’s wedding.  Upon meeting me for the first time, he pulled me quickly and tightly into his large 6’3” frame and smacked a big kiss on my cheek.  

Giving Travis the high eyebrows, he mouthed over my head, “She’s a keeper.”  Needless to say, I liked him right away.

And now he was gone.  Forever.  I was lost in my own thoughts and limited memories of this man, as Travis recalled some precious times, when I suddenly realized Travis was not going to be coming home this Christmas.  Questioning him on this, he pronounced my assumptions correct.  He probably would not be able to make both the trips out to Pittsburgh (where his grandparents abided) and to the central coast of California.  Or if he did, it would be a short, two-day visit to see me.  Feeling completely selfish and guilty, I began to cry myself as I realized this wasn’t going to be the Christmas vacation that I imagined it.  Life was simply not fair, in any situations.  I felt sorrowful for Trav’s grandmother, for his mother, for his family, for him.  But deep inside my secret places, I felt immensely sorrowful for me and my cheated time with this man I so dreadfully wanted to be with.

*

Christmas break crept slowly by, as I felt the time that I had imagined to be with my man slowly slip away.  I felt the familiar feelings of doubt creep in, as to how our relationship could possibly continue without face to face interaction.  I needed to see him, be with him, and know his presence.  Who knows how long this could continue – our separation?  Although my love was sure, I felt my resolved beginning to weaken, and once again was faced with the question of was this what I truly wanted??  I tossed back and forth restlessly.  Did I want the numerous occasions of separations that were sure to follow us in this relationship?  No.  Did I want the insecurity of knowing when we’d be with each other again?  No.  Did I want the instability of the military lifestyle: asking for leave, last minute deployments, etc?  No.  But did I want him, Travis, the man who made my world spin?  Yes.  Inexplicably and undeniably, YES.  My mind and soul were at war with how to reconcile my wants and desires with reality.

Again, one evening, I was surprised by a phone call.  It was Travis.  He was at the airport in Pittsburgh – on his way to see me.  We would only have 48 hours together, but he figured it was better than nothing.  I figured the same, but my heart also felt cautious after all that I had been mulling over.  I didn’t want to alarm Travis with another conversation with me freaking out about “us” and where we were going.  But I also completely desired to be in no doubt about us – positively convinced.  Heading to the bathroom to freshen up, I prayed that God would guide these next 48 hours together. 

One hot shower, a quick nap, one fresh spritz of perfume, and five hours later, I met Travis at our local airport.  He looked doggedly tired, but happy to see me.  He smiled and reached for me, and I felt supremely lucky to be the girl wrapped in the handsome man’s arms.  He kissed me lightly on the forehead, then looked at me sensitively, as if he knew my mind and heart had been pummeling themselves raw the past week.  “Hi.”  He stated the greeting as a fact, as his thumb brushed the back of my hand tenderly.

“Hey.  How are ya feeling?”  I sensed his sorrow over his grandfather’s passing still lingered in the recesses of his mind and I ached for him.  I, too, knew the grief of losing a beloved grandpa.

“I’m okay.  Pretty beat.  But I don’t want to waste any moments with you,” he smiled resolutely.  “You busy right now?  Can I take you out?”

“Busy?”  I laughed softly.  Poking him in the chest, I stated, “You are my plans for the next 48-hours.  Please take me out.”

Walking out to the parking lot, he took a deep breath of the fresh cental coast air.  The sun would be setting within the next couple hours, so the air was still warm, but with a hint of nippiness in it.  Gazing around at the green mountains, the crystal blue sky, and the familiar landmarks, he sighed, “I love being home.”  I totally knew what he meant.

*

He hopped into the driver’s seat after hauling his luggage into the trunk.  Heading north, I settled back into my chair as I enjoyed gazing at his profile.  We didn’t talk much on the drive.  I didn’t have much to say, simply wanting to be with him and gauge my upcoming feelings on being with him rather than what I had been considering the past week.  I could tell he just wanted silence as well, as he let his hand show his affection for me by twirling strands of my hair while glancing at me intermittedly throughout the drive.   

As the ocean soon came into view, I saw that he was taking us to the same beach where we had our first talk about “us.”  I smiled inwardly, noting the sentimentality.  He loved the ocean and thrived on being romantic.  What might make other girls swoon always tended to make me laugh.  I don’t know why I began to giggle, but soon I was laughing out loud.  He looked at me, confused.

“I don’t know why I’m laughing.  I just think it’s funny you’re taking me to this beach, trying to be all romantic and all…”  I giggled some more.

Looking at me as if I were nuts, he rolled his eyes and denied it.  “I’m not trying to be ‘romantic and all.’  I just like this beach.  I wanted to go here.  Is that so bad???”  His voice egged me on.

“No, no,” I piped in a teasing, know-all voice.  “It’s fine.”  And I quickly unbuckled myself as he pulled into a parking spot next to the dunes.  The beach was empty.  Perfect for running around and goofing off.  All of a sudden, I felt as though I were as light as a feather and as happy as a lark.  I had 48-hours with the man I loved and I wanted nothing more than to run, be free, and have fun with him.  “C’mon!  Let’s go!”  And with that, I was out of the car and half way down the dunes. 

He quickly followed me, confused at where this burst of energy had come from.  When he reached me at the bottom, I had my flip-flops in hand and was ready to play chase or go for a quick sprint by the water’s edge.  

“Don’tcha want to take off your sandals?” I encouraged him.

“Ya.  I guess.”  He still seemed confused and not quite up to my energy level, which was beginning to annoy me.  “Hey, let me take our shoes back to the car, so they won’t get stolen.”

Back to the car?  Stolen?  We had just run down a huge sand dune and the beach was barren.  “Naw,” I objected.  “Let’s just hide them here, under these bushes.”  And I reached to grab his sandals from him.

Holding on tightly, he resisted.  “No, Jen!  I’m putting them in the car.  I don’t want them to be stolen.  Give me yours too.”  His face was serious, no-playing-allowed deal.

Staring at him, dumbfounded, I held my stance.  Lifting my nose stubbornly, I stated emphatically, “No!  Don’t go up to the car.  You’re being weird.  Just put them here.”  And I motioned to the bushes.

Quick as lightning, he swiped my sandals from my unprepared hands and began laboring up the shifting dune.  

“Travis!  Why are you acting like that?!”  I was really bothered now.  Why did he have to go and ruin a perfectly happy mood?  Without a backward glance, he kept climbing.  “Fine,” I shouted.  “If you’re going to leave me, then you’ll have to find me.”  And with that, I was off running.

Finding a dune to hide behind, I waited for him to return and search for me.  What was his deal? I wondered.   He seems so serious, as if he doesn’t want to be happy-go-lucky with me.  Am I really annoying him?  My thoughts were scattered as I contemplated what to do next when he found me.  Eventually I saw him wandering on the beach, all alone, looking for me.  Calling his name, he spied me and ambled over.  When he got within distance, I asked, “Are our shoes all locked up, safe and sound?”  He smiled a bit, wagging his finger at me.  Then, his face resumed it’s serious façade again and he reached for me.  I evaded his arms, dancing sprightly around him, my smile growing bigger by the second.  I don’t know what was up with me, but I had the energy of 100 lightbulbs zinging inside of me.

He stopped and stared at me, not sure whether to join me or remain in his mysterious ways.  “What’s up with you?” he finally asked, a smile in his voice.  His hand reached out to grasp mine and pull me close.  Shaking my head, I danced away again.

“Nah-uh,” I said.  “I don’t want to be all romantic and stuff right now.  I just want to have fun.  Can’t you just have fun with me?  Chase me!”  And I was off, running down the beach.  Seconds later, I was thrilled to hear his footsteps pounding behind me.  Gleefully shrieking, I ran hither and yon, trying to dodge his grasp.  But he was faster than I, and eventually caught me.  Clasping me tightly in his arms, he was out of breath as he mimicked me, “’I don’t want to be all romantic and stuff…’”  Kissing me soundly, he murmured, “You’re crazy.”

“I know.”  I smiled.  Then, slipping out of his hold, I walked on ahead of him, gazing at the splendor of the sea.  Seashells and Sand Dollars were strewn across the sand, creating a stunning  mosaic.  I bent, picking up a perfect shell.  Turning to share it with Travis, we admired it together before I left it in his palm in search for another beauty.  Bending and examining the multitude of rocks and sea treasures was always a favorite pastime.  I loved to study each unique design, created by God and fashioned by the ways of the ocean.  Finding a perfectly whole Sand Dollar, I exclaimed, “Trav!  Look at this one!” 

Continuing to stare in awe at it’s perfection, I waited for Travis to tromp up behind me.  He didn’t.  “Trav!”  I yelled once again.  “Look at what I found!”  Silence.

Turning round with an air of impatience, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.  Two yards back, Travis was planted, one knee on the ground, one knee up.  Holding a blue box in his hand, he was staring at me with a smile plastered on his comely face.  Dropping my perfect Sand Dollar, my jaw dropped to the ground as I continued to gape at this man. 

“What are you doing??” I questioned in earnest honesty.  I watched as the waves swept up underneath him, not caring if they soaked his pants or not.  “You’re getting all wet!”