The Swing on the Porch . . . Our Story

Last night a friend posted that she was enjoying a cocktail on her front porch. 

I read the post aloud to Brent.  This lead us to encourage B and G to watch a movie in the front room.
Aren't we parents of the year? 

We also put Baby M in her swing (she fell asleep during dinner) and head to the swing on our porch, with a cocktail, of course.

I cannot even begin to tell you how nice it was to just sit on that swing; looking into the darkness, listening to the bugs, who were super loud, by the way, and just talk about . . . nothing. 

I mean yeah we talked, about the odd lights coming from down the street and the neighbors and of course the kids, but no earth shattering conversation was developed and that's ok.  It was nice to

just

be

us.

As we sat there in the darkness among those noisy bugs I began to reminisce about us, Brent and I, that is, and just how we came to be . . .

**** Just so you know this is going to have to be a 2 parter ****

The summer before my sophomore year of high school was spent like most summers I could remember from my childhood.  We went on a family vacation that was linked up with the car club my dad was a part of.

My dad belonged to a Full Size Chevy club.  It consisted of a group of guys who had rebuilt, restored, or maintained these Chevy's from 1965 and 1966.  Each year a member from the club hosted a 'meet'.  The meet was held in the host's home town.  Touristy type activities were scheduled throughout the 4-5 days the meet was held and was concluded with a car show and banquet on the last evening.

As you can imagine the vacation was less than thrilling, for a 15 year old who would rather spend her days sleeping in until noon and getting her tan on, once she did manage to drag her lazy rear out of bed.  Traveling in the backseat of a hot, noisy, 1965 Impala, with her parents was NOT cool!

The one silver lining, in my eyes that is, was that my best friend, Sara, was able to go on vacation with us (she frequently went on the trips with us).  At least I had someone my age to enjoy the misery.

As I said this was a typical summer vacation for my family.  We had grown to know several people and families in the club.  My mom enjoyed catching up with the ladies while my dad loved talking cars and drinking a few beers with the guys.  Leaving Sara and I to, well, just be.  Sometimes we would go swimming or walk around the hotel or fix our hair and make up in the hotel room.  We attended the day tours with the group and hung out at the back of the pack making the tour our own.


The meet this particular summer was held in Pennsylvania.  To be honest I don't know when Brent and I actually first connected.  It could have been during the tour of the Harley Davidson plant or at the pool or somewhere else for that fact.

Sara being the wonderful best friend that she is, nudged me to talk to Brent, which eventually lead toward Brent, Sara, myself, and another boy who was around our age, hanging out together for the week.

During the day we participated in the adult scheduled tasks and at night we were given the opportunity to 'do our own thing' within reason, of course. 

There wasn't much to do around the hotel.  We were limited to swimming, walking around, walking to an ice cream shop near by, oh and the best thing ever . . . Brent was 16 so he could DRIVE!  This meant we could go to a movie.
     Just in case you're wondering yes, I do still remember that we saw Liar, Liar.  And yes, he did hold my hand, but that was all.

For the remainder of the week we hung out, just the 4 of us, not realizing what this would lead to. 

After the banquet on the last night Brent and I spent as much time together as we could.  We both knew this was our last night together and quite possibly the last night that we would spend together ever.  We lived in 2 different states.  We were 15 and 16 years old.  There was no way that we could have a relationship . . . or was there?  We never discussed any of this.  We just enjoyed our time together.

I knew that Brent and his family were going to be leaving very early the next morning.  With the help of Sara I composed a letter to Brent.  I wrote of how I had enjoyed our time together and provided him with my address.

I set my alarm and got up early in the morning.  Shaking with nerves and butterflies and knots in my stomach I walked in the cold darkness and put the letter under the windshield wiper of his dad's car and then went back to my hotel room.

**** I'm going to stop here for today ****

Our Story Part 2 . . . The Letter