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As time slipped away, it was obvious that the prospect of going to war with its unknown consequences was dominating Bob’s thoughts. I noticed him looking at me, as if he was about to say something, but the words never formed. Perhaps he had been notified of his departure date and wanted to tell me — but decided it wasn’t time to break the news.

I was overjoyed that Bob singled me out to share with him the visits to places that represented joyous memories for him. At one point, as though he was thinking aloud, he said, “I had to come here one more time, just in case I don’t come back from the war or I’m physically unable to get here again.”

I found it impossible to put the right words together to respond. Instead, I put my arms around him and, as we were about to kiss, I noticed tears in his eyes.
“Bob, don’t think negative thoughts….” and I stopped. This was not the time for me to cry.
I referred to our hikes through the woods as our “Hansel and Gretel” adventures. We followed the paths through the pines that deer had made and waded in ice-cold streams to catch rainbow trout. He cleaned the fish while I gathered wood and started a bonfire. Then, while the fish sizzled in the pan, we cuddled beside the fire and warmed our cold feet. Our escapades were reminiscent of activities Bob and his father had enjoyed together over the years.
Our lives ticked away ever so quickly as I tried to– amass a collage of whom Bob was. He no longer was the hunk in tight blue jeans and tee shirt that I met so long ago. He was a man of character and tenderness and I knew that I would love him forever.
He was happy with the life he had made for himself. He loved the freedom of the outdoors and planned, when the war ended, to continue to live his life exactly as he had before the service.

more tomorrow…