Love Lines

Love was defined for me by a blue-eyed, blond muscle man. When he looked at me, it was calm, strong, and true. I learned that if I were angry, he still loved me. If I ignored him, he’d come back later. If I rejected him, he would sadly trudge away, coming back again the next day. If I chose someone else, he gave me my space. And, from day one, he made it clear that marrying me was what he wanted to do. Everyone knew. And from my point of view, he was a pest.

We were in the fourth grade.

Sharing Stories 2/22/2021

Frieda Kirk, longtime Washington resident, continues to break hearts…now among those older than 4th grade. This piece was done in response to Ariele’s request for entries for her blog http://fiftyshadesofgraying.blogspot.com/.

SHARING STORIES is a weekly column for and about the 50 plus crowd living in the Puget Sound region. Send your stories and photos to ariele@comcast.net. Tell local or personal stories; discuss concerns around aging and other issues; share solutions, good luck, and reasons to celebrate; poems are fine too. Pieces may be edited or excerpted. We reserve the right to select among pieces. Photos are always a plus and a one-sentence bio is requested (where you live, maybe age or career, retired status, etc.).

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