FIRST KISS

Part of many summers as a child was spent at various lakes in Oklahoma, where my mother’s side of the family would gather.  Everyone camped in either tents or pop-up campers. No one had RVs in those days, and 'glamping' would be used decades later. My immediate family spent a lot of our summers camping at various places in Texas, Oklahoma, and Colorado.  Eventually, we upgraded to a pop-up camper, which was definitely an improvement. The tent got a little chilly when staying in altitudes above 13,000 in Colorado, even in the summer.

When I was 14, we met my maternal grandparents and various other relatives who joined us on one of those lakes in Oklahoma. It was always a lot of fun because there were enough children around that our parents would give us a great deal of freedom to swim, play games, hike, or even read a book.  I don’t remember it ever raining because good memories never seem to contain anything unpleasant about the weather.  My summers spent with relatives were filled with perpetual sun and a feeling of freedom that has been unmatched in adulthood.

There were many other unrelated families at the lake this particular summer.  We would all play games in and out of the lake every day. One specific boy from another family started showing some interest in me.  Since I had never had a boyfriend or even had anyone show the slightest inclination that he wanted to get to know me, I quickly became smitten with him.  He was tall at age 15, and somewhat muscular, which I’m sure was from living on a farm and doing lots of manual labor. His name was Harlan. He had a kind, sweet face that went along with his naivety. Oh heck, I was naïve, too.  But, my innocence was anchored in the years leading to age 14 of feeling unlovable. I was the poster girl for poor self-esteem derived from a tumultuous home life.

Harlan’s innocence was from living on a farm and rarely leaving it except to attend the rural school he attended.  And now…here’s this 14-year-old Texas girl he found cute, funny, and unlike anyone he’d ever met.  For once, someone was actually interested in me!  Likewise, I found him appealing and engaging.  So, we did our best to squeeze our new-found puppy love into the remaining time we had left. We started meeting very early in the mornings before anyone else awakened to go swimming.  I loved getting in the water early mornings when no one else was around.  After absorbing the sun from the previous day, the lake is surprisingly warm and feels like silk as you slide through it.  We savored our final moments together on the last morning of our stay when he suddenly kissed me.  I doubt our kiss would be considered passionate, but probably more like an awkward yet tender kiss.  That afternoon, my family cleared camp and prepared to leave.  Harlan and I promised to write to each other often.  Thoughts of him and our time together comforted me in the coming months.

For the next year, we would write to each other weekly, although, toward the end of that year, it was less frequent.  We both probably knew the futility of continuing, as distance and age were not in our favor.  Toward the end of that year, more than three weeks had passed since I last heard from him. One day, I received a letter from my grandmother telling me that Harlan had died.  He had been hunting with his friends and climbing a hill when his rifle discharged into his chest, killing him instantly.  I remember feeling a sense of disbelief and loss at the same time.  Whatever we had hoped for in the future would never be.  Distance and our ages didn’t put an end to it.  Death did.

And now, after five decades, the memory of him and our time together is bittersweet.  But mostly, I feel sadness for him because he never experienced finishing school, watching the fruits of his labors on the farm grow into beautiful crops year after year, getting married, and experiencing the joy of children and grandchildren.  His loveliness was lost to the world.  

That awkward yet tender first kiss will stay with me forever.  And just maybe, before he headed up that hill with a loaded rifle, his thoughts drifted to our sweet kiss.  I hope so.  Rest in peace, Harlan.