One of the many kisses exchanged the day I flew to Denver.
Dennis and I started dating in 1988 and got married in 1994. Throughout most of our dating years, we lived at least 300 miles apart. There were many long, late-night phone calls and lots of letters. Here are some of Dennis’s thoughts on those letters (written to me in 1991, when I was living in Denver, and he was in New Hampshire):
Hey! I just had the most wonderful, unique (huumba!), interesting insight into you and me. Who else do you know that’s had such chance, opportunity and [I can't read this word; Dennis's handwriting, thankfully, has improved over the years] on writing back and forth to a loved one? Can you imagine M writing a letter to V? It’s probably never happened. What a letter from E to B looks like? M to J? M to T? Nada, Babe! Now I bet A wrote a lot to E, and vice versa. Ha! We’re in good company. There is no denying the romantic capabilities of a pen. We are awesome! While our phone bills are still rather high, we use up our fair share of paper in the original mode of conversation between lovers. Great discourses, contracts, to and in, the name of love, each other, joining with the past romances — those forbidden, those held apart by war, politics, practicality; overcome, put off and conquered eventually, get sustained through those difficult times by the power of the parchment. Hardships expressed in such poetic manifestations, elations at reading and imagining the elation of the other end when putting the words down. Letters, Cheryl. Letters. Someone ever says we don’t know what love is, we each got a basket; a barrel full of letters to point to. “Read those, fool, and then we’ll see who does and who doesn’t know love!”
I love you.
And someday, not too far off, I’ll pull out a worn Van Morrison record from the early eighties, with him on a guitar, and some background singers. And we’ll lay in bed on that cold Saturday morning, the sun just starting to flow above the wet trees blowing themselves dry. I’ll kick the dog out of the cool covers and we’ll just roll over and sleep a little more.
I can’t wait to see you. I love you. Dennis.
Sigh. And that’s why I married him.
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