I saw Peggy today, from a distance.

She looked really good. Still trim, and in good shape, still moves like dancer. Her hair is gold, and beautiful, but I suspect that is artificially enhanced. Peggy is my age. Almost exactly my age, in fact, which puts her at close on to sixty, one side or another.

She had two kids with her. Young kids, which looked just fine, until I thought about it. A seven year old boy, looked like, and a pre teen girl so cute you know she is gonna be trouble, and have trouble from it. Then I heard the boy call her grandma. Yeah. That kid grows up with a different take on Grandma. So, then I realized that made more sense than her having kids that age herself. Heck, my youngest is thirty this year.

So, I sat in my car, watching Peggy move, and laugh. They packed up the groceries, and got in the car, and drove away. And then I cried. You see, forty five years ago, I had a mad crush on Peggy. A near obsession, for all that no one but me ever knew about it. She was cute, she was hot, she was incredibly personable, and nice. She was even friendly to me. I was the kid from another school, and decidedly awkward. She was just herself. She was pretty popular, or looked that way from my rung on the social ladder.

She was famous, in a high school way. She had massive scars on her face. I have to put that in here, but the fact is that the scars didn’t much matter to anyone. She was beautiful, and she had scars. She was much more than beautiful, too. I won’t pretend that there was never an insensitive moron who could not see her, or that no one ever said anything intended to be cruel. But in fact, quite against the logic of teen life, no one listened to it when someone did. Being around Peggy was a deal. Everyone who had a chance, learned that.

I fell in love.

It’s embarrassing to even think about it. We walked together at Graduation, by alphabetic accident. I still remember every moment. Did I say, “Had a crush?” I can’t even begin explaining it all. Twenty years ago, I saw her, and we got together for a cup of coffee. I embarrassed myself horribly when I spoke with her. I was worse than a high school kid again. So I begged her pardon, asked her to forget about it all, and left.

I saw her today in the parking lot, and sat there being very careful not to cry, in case she noticed me. The she left. And then I cried.

Bye Peggy. Have a beautiful life, please.

Tris

Oh, boy.

She must be some woman to have left such an impression, and to still move you to this day. I wonder if she knows about all the feeling she stirs in you?

She was somewhat embarrassed when we met years ago, as mentioned above. I don’t know if she understood how atypical that was for me, being the fumbling unwanted suitor. She was kind about it, of course, and seemed to accept my decidedly unglib excuses for being an idiot.

She is a very nice person. She probably hasn’t much thought about me, what with seeing me only once since 1965, and not much before that, either. I just can’t imagine how silly she would think it was if she knew how much I would have loved for it to be different than it was. I cannot say that I have pined away the years between then and now. But, twice in forty years I have been moved to tears by her mere presence.

Keep in mind that I pretty much don’t cry. I can, and have at times of great emotion, but it is very infrequent.

I can see that this thread really needs to sink into the depths of the mundane and pointless. Thanks for the reply, though. Crying alone was a bit of a drag.

Tris

That’s really beautiful, Triskadecamus. Thank you for sharing.

I’m not sure of your marital status Triskadecamus, but I thought I’d share this story with you anyway.

I have a wonderful friend who is now in her 80’s. She is beautiful, inside and out, with a delightfully wicked sense of humor and a knack for putting everyone who meets her at ease. She was happily married for 30+ years to a man she loved deeply. About six years after his death, she was contacted by a man she went to high school with who had a crush on her way back when. They began seeing one another and went on to spend 18 head-over-heels, giddy in love years together before he recently passed away.

She’s still grateful he had the courage to contact her after all those years. They had a wonderful season together and she counts herself fortunate that she’s been blessed with two great loves of her life.

Perhaps yours and Peggy’s paths with cross again one day …

This thread reminds me of Martha by Tom Waits. Sorry for your pain, Tris.

A sweet and touching tale, beautifully rendered, Tris. I wonder if out there somewhere we all have someone who thinks about each of us as you think about Peggy? We’d be lucky if we did.

That was wonderful to read, Triskadecamus. I’m glad you posted it.

What were the scars from?

I don’t remember. I don’t even remember if I ever knew. Describing her, without mentioning them would be . . . inaccurate. But they were just like mentioning blue eyes, or “wears red” Not really essential. Yet you knew that she had been through whatever it was, so you remember. And . . . well I remember every part of her face. I don’t remember the home comming queen’s face, though.

Thank you too, to everyone. (you all seem to really understand, which I have to admit I had not expected.) Unlike most things that make me cry, I can take this pretty well, without . . . that “oh, make it stop” feeling.

About Peggy now, I am pretty sure she is married, at least she was twenty years ago. I have trouble imagine someone divorcing her, and to be honest, I don’t remember anything she said about her husband when we talked. That doesn’t mean that she didn’t, only that it didn’t remain in my memory. She was entirely happy and engaged with her grandchildren. They seemed entirely happy with grandma. It was sweet.

The car was new, and had local plates. The kids were wearing very new looking kids winter clothes, probably Christmas New, so there is lots of evidence that Peggy is having that happy life I mentioned. I would have swooped down on the least scent of misery like a carrion bird. (And that’s an ugly feeling.)

I really am glad to have a place to discuss the mundane and . . . Poignant stuff, and sharing it has made it easier to keep the memory in my heart. Thanks again, everyone.

Tris

That was definitely quite a story. Have you ever gone to any of the high school reunions? Maybe that would be a way to get in touch again, or at least find out how life has panned out for her, without coming across as creepy.
Of course, sometimes it is better to keep the aura of mystery.

Hell, I was in charge of one. But, I didn’t actually go to it. I just made sure it happened. That was a fairly bad time in my life, and just leading the effort from the background was more than I could do without nearly falling apart.

I got better, though.

The previous meeting I mentioned happened after that.

Tris

Terrific post, Triskadecamus. Thanks.

Lovely, Tris.

I was gonna say, there’s a song in that story.

I’ve always enjoyed your postings here, Tris, over these many years. And here’s another one to show your exquisite depth, and sweetness of heart,(Remembering your Valentine’s roses thread…) I hope your tears dry without ache.