What Might Have Been

I've often thought that you probably know you love someone when you're immensely frightened of losing that person but comforted only by the knowledge that the one you love is as equally terrified of the thought of losing you.

We can't choose when we love and we unfortunately don't have a say in when we lose love either.

My father's mother met and married the love of her life in her early twenties. Less than a year later she was 2 months pregnant with her soul mate's daughter when her new husband, a pilot in the air force, vanished into a cloud bank on a routine training mission off the coast of California. The rest of his squadron descended through the sky but his aircraft never did. No wreckage was ever found nor was his body and the case was closed as an unexplained mystery. Missing in action. Two thousand miles away, in Corpus Christi, Texas, a young pregnant woman became a widow at the age of 22.

Within a couple of years, she met a traveling salesman named WJ, my grandfather, and they later married. She had already given birth to the baby girl she was pregnant with when her late husband disappeared. She had named her daughter Jacqueline (or Jacquie), after the baby's late father, Jack. My grandfather and grandmother went on to have two children of their own together, one of course being my father.

It always felt to me as though my grandparents had a relationship much like that of a business partnership. Respectful, caring, but probably not one that could be described as a romance. Though I know she loved him, my grandmother often spoke of her time with Jack, even in front of WJ. It was apparent that she never recovered from losing what she regarded as the love of her life. They lived a long life together until my grandmother passed away at the age of 81. After her passing, my grandfather spoke frequently of his and his wife's times together fondly and, in his last two years, expressed how he longed to go "home" to be with his sweet Evelyn. He died at the age of 89, 4 years after my grandmother. As I said, they obviously cared for each other and became attached, in a role most likened to a companionship that he longed for once she was no longer by his side.

After my grandfather's death, the pieces to a story that could be plastered onto the silver screen were revealed. Evelyn may not have been the only one to have longed for a lost love and a what-might-have-been. Years before meeting my grandmother, my grandfather had a noteworthy romance of his own.

A smart young man, my grandfather was accepted to Texas Tech University and having no money he took an all-night job in order to pay his way. After working through the night until dawn he would then attend classes all day. Unfortunately, his estranged alcoholic father came to visit him one weekend claiming he wanted to spend time with his son. Hoping the years of rejection might be finally at a close, my grandfather welcomed his Dad with open arms to stay with him for a few days. Instead, his father stole his tuition savings to feed his gambling habit while his son worked his night job and then left before my grandfather returned from work at dawn. With no means to afford his education, WJ was forced to drop out of school and this great man was fed another helping of rejection and defeat. He joined the Navy and even became a champion boxer while he served.

After a few years in the Navy, WJ became part of one of President Roosevelt's historic "New Deal" programs and enlisted in the Civilian Conservation Corps where he was sent to a small Colorado town. He, along with other young men employed by the program which was aimed to aide those unemployed by the affects of the Great Depression, began the task of building parks and reforesting the land.

It was in this southern Colorado town that WJ experienced love. He met a young woman named Clara. She fell in love with my grandfather and he in love with her. Their courtship was simple and sweet. Clara happened to hail from the wealthiest family in town. She and her family were well educated and polished. Although he was enamored with this young woman, my grandfather struggled with the insecurities of being nothing more, in his mind, than a poor boy that grew up on a Texas farm. One who lacked both the finances and education other suitors could potentially offer a girl like Clara. WJ felt he had nothing to give other than his love. Unfortunately he didn't believe that was enough.

Along with the multitude of other insecurities, fears, and worries that we probably all grapple with in the face of loving someone, my grandfather couldn't help but feel as though he was somehow not good enough for this girl that captured his heart. When he received his transfer orders and was scheduled to leave Colorado for good, he elected not to tell Clara. Knowing he could not provide what he felt she deserved, WJ decided he was doing her a favor. He left Colorado one evening without saying goodbye, leaving behind a heartbroken woman who would live the rest of her life never knowing what went wrong.

In a time without the Internet, cell phones or 411 .. my grandfather vanished from her life forever.

A pack rat by nature, my grandfather saved everything.. and I mean literally everything. Cleaning out his apartment after his funeral proved to be a daunting task for my father and my uncle. They sifted through the tangible belongings of their father's life like archaeologists through the earth. Much was disposed of and meaningful items were saved. Halfway through the endeavor they stumbled upon a box of letters that revealed the outcome of a love story that began 60+ years earlier.

In the last year of his life, at 89 years old, WJ wrote to the chamber of commerce in the Colorado town that he had been stationed in 60-some years earlier. He inquired the old fashioned way, via written letter, about Clara's locally well-known family during the time period he knew her. The correspondence revealed that he was placed in touch with a somewhat removed relative of the family and several exchanges took place. The letters addressed to my grandfather laid to rest 6 decades of wonder and regret. Through these letters, he learned what became of the woman he was in love with so many years before. Clara had married, she had several children and a multitude of grandchildren. She lived in Colorado her entire life and had passed away only 6 months prior to my grandfather contacting the Chamber of Commerce. I think my grandfather was able to finally close a chapter of his life by knowing that Clara went on to lead a full and satisfying life, though he was too late to ever say "I'm sorry" or "goodbye."

The parallels, to me, are daunting. This woman loved a man, much like my grandmother loved her first husband, who vanished into thin air with no explanation given. She went on, as did my grandmother, to marry, create a family, and live a long life. When my grandmother died she more than likely looked back on her life and had two men who occupied her heart on her mind. I have to wonder if Clara did the same.

I know what a wonderful person my grandfather was. He was accomplished, he was intelligent, the hardest worker I've ever had the honor of knowing. He was funny, he was handsome and his heart was gold. On the inside, he didn't give himself credit for all that he was. He let his insecurities stop him from what might have been the love of a lifetime.

Imagine 63 years of regret. Imagine cheating yourself out of spending the rest of your days with your soul mate. Imagine leaving someone to wonder, until their last breath, why you walked out.

I'm obviously glad my grandparents ended up where they did because I was honored to have them in my life and otherwise I certainly wouldn't have been born. I can't help but mourn both of their losses on their behalf.

Let it be a lesson. Never sell yourself short. Never think you're not worthy and, as cliche as it sounds, try to remember that to the world you may just be one person.. but to one person you just might be the world.

Some love is taken away from us and some love we take away from ourselves.

Fate deprives some people of love and others deprive themselves.

I don't want to be writing a chamber of commerce when I'm 89 because I let someone slip through my fingers. I don't want to wish I had said goodbye and I don't want to feel so unworthy of something that I actually deserve that I am foolish enough to walk away from it.

Life is like a "Choose Your Own Adventure" book. Here's hoping we pick our paths wisely.

In loving memory of my Grandfather, W.J.
M.db

PS- can you imagine all four players in this story being reunited in heaven? Awwwkkkwaaaarrdddd. :) (had to end on a light note)