In the Park

I did not really know Iva. I mean know her, but I guess I can say that she was included to show the value of listening. She was sort of a mystery to me. I guess the little time that I did know her was spent sitting in the park talking about families. I can only imagine what our time was really like, but here is something that I am sure that would be so common during our talks.

We like to sit in the park on Sundays. It was a small park called “freedom”. In the summer it was always filled with lots of squirrels and people with their dogs and occasionally their cats. I know it was a lot of fun those days to walk with her. Just hand in hand along the edge of the grass. She is still young, but she is probably the most beautiful thing in my life. Her little hats which she loved to wear.

Her little shirt with a big flower on the chest and the blue jeans with flowers trimming the pockets and the pant legs is her favorite outfit. I can not imagine that she could look more like her mom. Her eyes are big and glassy just like her mom’s. Dark hair almost raven hair reminded me of her mom when we first met. Her aunt had found the shirt one weekend in the market and had embroidered the flowers on her jeans.

I do not have any sisters, but there was one person in my life that I promised I would be grandparents with. We never found a way to be together, but we had never lived more than an hour apart for the rest of our lives. That is why today is so sad. I can see my little girl’s favorite playmate her cousin. He was a cute little guy. He wore his USA flag hat. It was a special present from my dad. He had found it one day shopping in the flea market before he died. My dad had wanted it for his grandchild that at the time was still waiting to be born. I thought that it would be better for him. My daughter Elena had been born a few months after him, and they were inseparable. He was cute in his little overalls and a “Mickey Mouse” t-shirt.

His mom and I made sure of that. We would kid that they would fall in love one day and smile like we said we would. It is a strange thought, but I guess it would be an amazing end to a long road for my friend and I. She was glowing as usual, she had been shopping I could see. Her arms full of bags as was her traditional Sunday afternoon in town. I helped her with her bags as she sat down. My “holka” ran to her “hoch” and they played in the grass not far from our bench. They were beautiful together. After all of these years her lips were as soft as the first day we met, by the fountain at the music school.

That was a strange day but I can even remember what she was wearing that day. I can not remember if it was her birthday or just a few days after. It was too long ago. She was beautiful that day, she had a silver backpack and a white shirt with a sunflower on one side and light blue jeans. She looked into my eyes as she would. We did not see each other every week, but most weeks we had.

She had been my dearest friend and confidant for so many years. I could not imagine what I was about to tell her. I had promised her we would be grandparents together, but I was going to have to break our promise. It was killing me, I could not believe how hard it was. No matter how openly I refused to let myself be sad, she could see through me. Only a few minutes after she had sat down she looked at me, and said “Medvedku, co je spatne? You can not be sad, it is our day.”

I could not handle it, thank the heavens for children. Her little boy had caught a grasshopper and he brought it to us to show us. We told him to be careful with fragile things. “Do not hurt animals, they have feelings too. You would not like it if a grasshopper did the same to you.” We tried to be the best parents. I know that our spouses were our first loves, but we knew I think that we were our forever loves. Not to say that we had ever consummated our relationship, we had just known that to be apart would be worse than death to our hearts. We had a few days per month together and would call and talk like children even after all of this time.

It was the most amazing relationship I have ever known. I love my wife, and would never think of hurting her not even in a small way. She knew about my feelings, and so did her husband. We had been careful to not abuse their love by seeking more from our feelings. So we were allowed to have our time together and we were trusted by them.

It did not take long before my “holka” brought her aunt a little bouquet of flowers. We had bought them before we went to the park; my daughter had forgotten to give her present to her favorite aunt. It made her smile. If I thought I understood the beauty of a child before she was born; I would be lying. I can now not imagine not having her around. My friend and I love to have our babies together. It was like something that we used to talk about in whispers. Over our time we developed our own language that only we knew. This made it easier to talk in front of the kids and sometimes in front of the spouses.

It was absolutely about visiting with the squirrels and the trees. Enjoying the summer with our children was special. We knew we were the best part. I think my friend knew why we were here today. She knew, I was an open book to her and I knew it. In these years, she had seldom been wrong in her wisdom and she had not known before I did that I had a problem. Dark eyes, which would not look at me, were a dead give away that she knew something.

We would have dreams sometimes, then call or email each other about them. Sunshine and moonshine knew what made the other tick on many levels and she could feel the sadness in my heart today. It was more than the normal “we only have a short time” kind of feelings. Never had it been guilt that we should not be doing something, we had sworn that to each other. I had never been sorry with her; I had never been more alive on my wedding day. When she stood there in the doorway with a small yellow gerbera in her hand everything changed. I think she was the only woman in all of her village to be married with yellow gerberas in her bouquet. Many people, who knew her, knew that she loved them. It was not about that, on both occasions it was our blessing for the other to be married. I guess it was important to us that day to have the other’s approval.

She looked at me and asked me to walk with her. We stood and gathered the children. They really were so beautiful together making little rings of flowers. Summer sunshine fell on their skin and they were happy being children. There is something to the way this country deals with children that is far superior to my country. It is just a better way. We strolled around the park just out of earshot of the little ones. We had an ever vigilant eye on them as we walked. A few uncomfortable jokes came between us and a few times we had to stop to fix a hair bow or kiss a sore hand or scraped knee.

I tried to tell her that we were leaving. I had gotten a better job and was deciding to leave. Like a mallet hitting her on the hand, she stood there quiet. Not realizing that it was hurting me too. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. We stood there next to each other in the sun. The babies wanted to know why we were crying. I know we had never been in love with each other. We had only one night of passion on a day that was one of the hardest days of our lives. As soon as the words came from my mouth, I wanted more than anything to take them back. To never have said it and to run to my wife and tell her that it was not a good idea and that we should stay.

In the beginning, it was rough between us. She had managed to steal my heart and then to sacrifice it on a stone two times. That is what it had seemed like. Over the years I had realized that it was a hard thing for her to imagine falling in love with someone from so far away. Circumstances are always tough in real life. Our relationship is no different than a million others that happen every day, but it was ours. It was all we had. We stood there holding each other standing there in a field of flowers, not far from where we had met.

I think that we will never see each other again. I will miss her, and my family will honor her family’s memory in every way we could imagine. The four of us had shared many things and many more good times. I remember being worried when our family became five, and she cried and held my wife’s hand when we became six. We had nine Christmases together, maybe ten if you count the first one.

It was hard to imagine no more Sunday afternoons in the park with her, or no more Christmas carp with them. If I could leave her with one thing, it would be the hope that one day we would be old and living across the fence from each other. I think we would have the only yards in the village that did not have a fence between them. She was my family and that would not change even with a great distance between us. I told her that I would try to return. To bring my family back to her so she could see it as it grew. She would still be their aunt and we would do many things together in our hearts.

On the days when the sun is bright, she will always be the sunshine. Those days when it was dark and the only thing you could see was the light from the moon, I would look down on her and hers. Late one night, I know she will call to tell me that we were seven. It would be a little while later, when I would call and say that we were coming to visit so she could meet number eight. That night, we would dance slowly in the garden together and she would wear a yellow dress, and I a blue shirt and slacks. That night there would be no children, no wives or husbands, just two hearts that had spent their lives trying to be lovely together. Dancing in the moonlight until the dawn when there would be no doubt that our hearts were true.