The Test of Time

Evelyn, 1952

  I was just a girl when I first met Eddie. Fifteen years old. He was seventeen, a senior at my high school. All of the girls were trying to catch his attention, and it took an agonizingly long time for him to notice me. But when his gaze finally fell on me it did not stray to any of those other girls once.

We had a deep connection to one another, and never once did we argue. He took me to every school dance and to the burger joint where all the kids gathered on Friday nights. He came over to my house on Sundays after church for lunch with my parents, and they adored him as much as I did. In the evenings we would take a walk by the creek, hand in hand. When his arm was around me, I felt safe. The whole world melted away, and it was just him and me. I thought it was going to stay that way forever.

Eddie, 1955

My girl had left town early in the summer. She was starting college at a prestigious university across the country. She always was too smart for me, though she was kind enough not to think so herself. It was my favorite thing about her. When we took our evening walks, she would tell me everything she was learning about in her advanced studies. It was impossible not to be enchanted with Evelyn.

Our last evening together before she left for school was different, though. We cried so much we barely said two coherent sentences to each other. I knew I couldn’t live with myself holding her back, distracting her from her schoolwork. I had to let her go do this on her own. I would wait for her to come back, I told her. And then we would be married and start our lives together as she started her career. Reluctantly, she agreed.

I spent the rest of that summer alone in my room, more depressed than I had ever been. But as summer was coming to an end, my friends dragged me to a barbeque at one of their houses. It was there that I met Annie.

Annie, 1955

  I met Eddie at my cousin’s barbeque in 1955. I saw him across the yard, handsome but also sheepish and withdrawn. I watched for a little while as his friends tried to engage him, unsuccessfully. I couldn’t help myself but to go over and try for myself. I walked right up to him and asked his name. He looked up at me and stared for a second before he remembered to answer. Suddenly there was a new spark in his eyes replacing his sullen expression. I introduced myself and asked him to dance. From that moment, we were tethered to each other for the rest of the evening, dancing, laughing, talking, and eventually, kissing goodnight.

And that’s how each day we spent together was over the next handful of months. Our time together was short but filled with passion and romance. We fell in love so quickly it felt like there was never a time that we were not. I was certain it would have been that way forever if not for the Vietnam War. Eddie was drafted and left so quickly we hadn’t even processed what was happening until it was over. I anxiously waited for a letter or any news about Eddie, but I never received any. Eventually I got on with my life. I met somebody new, had children, and before I knew it grandchildren too. I had a great life with no regrets. I never forgot about Eddie though, my first real love.

Annie, present day

  I was so surprised by the letter I received in the mail that I nearly fainted. It was from Evelyn, Eddie’s wife. Eddie told her about me years ago, but she had never looked me up until now. She let me know that Eddie was living in a nursing home. His memory and ability to hold onto reality was slipping more and more each day. If I wanted to come and see him, she informed me, it should be sooner rather than later.

I re-arranged my schedule and booked the next available flight, leaving the following day. I was so anxious about seeing Eddie after all this time, about meeting his wife. When I arrived the nursing staff directed me towards Eddie’s room, and I knocked on the door. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to see Eddie or not, but I was also unable to wait a second more.

When Evelyn opened the door she surprised me again by pulling me into a deep hug, like we were old friends. She stepped out into the hallway with me and closed the door behind her. She warned me that Eddie might not remember me, or even what day it was. He has his good days and his less good days, she told me.

I braced myself when I entered the room, and then I saw him. My Eddie. The one I never stopped wondering about, never stopped missing. He was older now. His hair was white, his face was wrinkled. But his eyes were the same. When they met mine, a smile formed on his face. Pleasant, but not familiar. “Are you my nurse?” he asked.

I was taken aback, unsure of what to say in response. When I said nothing, he asked, “Are you here to take me on my afternoon walk?”

I looked over at Evelyn, who nodded her approval. “I would be delighted,” I replied.

We went for a walk outside around the nursing home grounds. They had a beautiful garden filled with flowers of every color, in all shapes and sizes. The sun was shining, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was a perfect day. I was walking arm in arm with Eddie to help support him, and his touch was not one of familiarity. It was that of a sweet stranger who knew the names of each flower in this garden and shared them all with me. When I asked how he knew the names of all these flowers, he said “Evelyn told me. She knows everything about flowers. She –” And then he stopped midsentence as his eyes met mine. I saw the same spark in them as the first time they looked into mine. “Annie,” he said suddenly, as if stating a fact he just remembered.

“Eddie,” I replied. “You remember me?”

“Oh Annie, how could I forget?”

He grabbed my hands and squeezed them. This time his touch felt very familiar. He told me he loved me and he always would. He told me we would be together forever, seeming to forget that the past sixty-five years had already occurred. But then I forgot too because he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. It felt like we were twenty years old all over again. It felt like we had never been apart. It felt like we were getting a re-do. And then it was over. We sat silently on a bench for a while looking at the flowers, his arm around me. And then he grew tired, so we went back to his room and he laid down to rest.

Evelyn once again pulled me into the hall and closed the door behind her. “I’m so sorry,” she said, tears forming in her eyes.

“Sorry?” I asked, taken aback. “What ever for?”

“For stealing your life,” she responded. “There was always a part of him I could not reach. A part that belonged to you. He loves you and always has.”

“But he chose you,” I answered. “He never came back to me.”

“Because I didn’t let him. When I found out he went to war, I got his address from his parents. I wrote to him. And I kept writing to him. I told him I loved him, I needed him. I couldn’t live without him. When he got back, he flew straight to me. Because I asked him to. He told me about you once, but he never again brought up your name. I could see something special in his eyes when he talked about you. A look he never had for me. He saw how hurt I was and was kind enough to let me pretend his time with you had never occurred. But I never forgot it. It was you he always wanted; it was you he was meant for. He stayed with me because he was a good and kind man, and he knew how much I needed him.”

At this it was I who pulled Evelyn into a hug, and we both cried. We stayed that way for a long time, thinking about the lives we’d both lead, the lives we might have lead under different circumstances. If the Vietnam war never happened. We each shared a deep love of Eddie, though I knew that he was hers to keep. He needed her now just like she needed him all those years ago. And now it was Evelyn I shared a deep bond with. Something I knew would connect us for the rest of our days.