A Moment to Last Forever

In June of 1966 I was a religious ‘brother’ on my way to potential priesthood. All second year members of this particular religious order were allowed to visit their hometowns for two days.

This was after one year of a ’see no tv, read no newspapers, and observe-Grand Silence-most-of-every-day’ (you couldn’t talk to anyone) novice life; followed by my first year as a physics major at Loyola U. in Chicago.

When I got to Springfield, Illinois, my hometown, I said hi to my family and — after calling up my high school senior love and asking if we could talk — borrowed the family car to meet Mary Ann Templeton. I’d not been allowed to write to her, and we hadn’t seen or talked to each other since the night of our high school graduations, two long years before.

I think I probably picked her up at six in the evening. We drove to a park by Lake Springfield, parked the car, and talked till five the next morning. No kissing or hugging, no deep breathing, just talk … about how we felt about each other and what the future might hold.

At one point late in the night, we decided to walk to the empty, darkened playground. I reached over to hold Mary Ann’s hand, as we walked over a ditch, but she held back. She sat in a swing and we looked up.

There were the stars, the magnificent stars the way the sky used to look before ‘light pollution’ knocked out that stunning sight in most cities and towns.

We still talk about that night, and both of us say to each other, again and again, “Look at the stars.”

Milky Way on the Prairie

That’s a moment I’d like to have lasted forever.

One Response to “A Moment to Last Forever”

  1. daruskii Says:

    Sounds to me like it has……lasted forever

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