The Best Years of My Life Ch. 02

After a delicious meal, we listened to carols on the radio in the parlor as Addie's mother served her traditional Yule log for desert.

When the mantle clock struck eleven, I said my goodbyes with a heavy heart. I followed Addie to her bedroom to retrieve my coat and we tenderly kissed for a few minutes.

"Addie, I'm…" I started to say but she placed her finger against my lips and held me tight to her body.

The sense of peace and security that I felt in her tender embrace was matchless and I found it with no one else.

As I traversed the front walk, I turned and looked at that splendid manse that housed my fondest memories. Tears escaped my eyes because deep inside, I knew that the war would change our lives and nothing would be the same again.

Addie reported to the Red Cross in January 1942 and when she returned, I learned that she was shipping out in less than a month. My heart sank in despair.

My students saw that I was on edge most of the time. Inadvertently, I snapped at a boy in my class over his inability to understand a math problem.

"I'm sorry Miss Collins," he said with tears in his eyes.

I immediately reproached myself for my awful behavior.

"I'm sorry too Joshua," I said with remorse and hugged the poor child.

My journeys to and from Addie's apartment on the trolley were fraught with anxiety. The time we spent together seemed to fly by.

 Our lovemaking was passionate, needy and filled with desire. I clung to Addie with desperation but the mere thought of her leaving and the tears would come.

My heart ached most of the time but Addie's soothing words of endearment and hugs would calm me.

 Saturday, the day before Addie's departure, I kept up a brave front, helping her pack and assisting with any last minute details.

We laughed and talked with the ease that typified our relationship. But, it was pointless trying to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

"Addie, do you remember the summer we went to visit your Aunt Violet at the cottage?" I asked in a sad voice as she held me on the sofa.

"Of course I do, why?" she asked sweetly.

My eyes were brimming with tears yet again,

"Sometimes, I think it was all just a dream," I lamented.

"It was no dream, my darling, it was very real," she said with affirmation.

I closed my eyes and saw the sunlight splashed on Addie's beautiful face as she recited my favorite poem. It was our last day with Aunt Violet.

"Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,
 Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for
 thee;
 Sounds of the rude world heard in the day,
 Lull'd by the moonlight have all passed away!"

My heart was afire with love for Addie and carefully I sat next her in that decrepit old rowboat and kissed her in broad daylight in the middle of the Perkiomen River not caring who saw us.

The inescapable fact that Addie was leaving returned to my psyche and disturbed my reverie. But, I gathered all my strength and stopped crying.

 "Why does love have to hurt?" I asked sorrowfully and looked up into her lovely green eyes.

Addie gazed at me with an adoring expression that bore into my soul. She held me close and gently pecked my forehead and cheeks a few times with a fiery look in her eyes. We kissed with incredible desire as the give and take of tongues exploring mouths inflamed my craving for her.

Addie carried me to her bed and we made love with intensity and passion that burned until the gray skies of dawn heralded a new day.

Sunday morning, we ate breakfast in total silence. No matter how much I tried to rationalize my feelings, a part of me was angry with Addie and yet another part was very proud.

As we sat at the kitchen table with long faces, I looked at the clock and realized that a taxi was due to pick her up in a few minutes. I lost control and sobbed out loud.

Addie came to me with open arms and I collapsed in her embrace.

"Why, why do you have to go?" I cried despondently.

"My darling, please don't cry," she pleaded in a shaky voice.

But, my heart was breaking and I was inconsolable.

"I love you," she said with deep affection

I stubbornly refused to return the sentiment.

"I know you're angry with me but try to understand," she pleaded tearfully.

I was unmoved but Addie was right, I was mad.

"Please tell me you love me?" she asked with gentleness and held me tight against her body.

My obstinate heart melted.

"I love you," I cried with emotion.

Addie kissed me with tenderness and passion.

For a brief moment, I had the feeling that we were standing in the garage on River Road, soaked from the storm and kissing for the first time.

The taxi honked its arrival.

"I will miss you so," I bawled forlornly.

"Goodbye, my darling, my love" she said in that sweet gentle voice that I had grown so fond of.

The taxi was honking with impatience and we kissed for the last time.

Addie strolled down the walkway with her suitcase and when she reached the taxi door, turned and waved. Her beautiful smiling face, lit by the morning sun was the last thing I saw. She was only twenty two years old.

When the taxi pulled away, I stood looking out the window for a long time. Finally, I understood that Addie had the courage of her convictions to do something with her life and not play it safe and stay home. That her decision to volunteer wasn't a rejection of me but an affirmation of the love we had for each other.

If Addie had stayed with me, the societal challenges that we faced for a happy life together were extreme and probably insurmountable but I would have given my all to try and make it work.
     
After I locked Addie's apartment, I sat waiting for the trolley on the boulevard in a state of shock. The day I dreaded for the last three months had arrived and a desolate sense of loneliness gripped me.

In the days that followed, I tried to deny my feelings of foreboding but deep in my soul I knew that I would never see Addie again.
    
Addie's ship left as part of a convoy for Britain and I heard nothing for three weeks.

I was hanging wash on the clothes line at my mothers when I saw Parker drive down the alleyway. I ran to the car for news about Addie but Parker's face looked bleak and his cheeks were streaked with tears. He parked in the space in front of the garage and told me the terrible news.

Somewhere in mid ocean, a German submarine wolf pack attacked the convoy. Twenty two out of sixty ships were lost. Addie's ship was torpedoed and sank in less than five minutes according to eye witness accounts. No survivors were reported.

Parker loved his sister and wept like a child. After he drove away I broke down and sobbed with heart breaking sorrow.

For a year, I grieved for Addie but secretly hoped that she was rescued and would walk through the front door of my parents home, hale and hearty. But, in the back of my mind I knew it was hopeless.

In church, I prayed to God asking why he had to take Addie so early in life but, He was mute.

Addie's father had a small grave marker placed on the family plot at the cemetery and somehow it signaled an end to any shred of hope that I had for her safe return. It read simply:

Adelaide Emily Wilburne
         1919-1942
     Beloved Daughter
      
Everyday after school, I visited the cemetery and wept with abandon as I stood before the little headstone. I grieved alone. None of my family or friends had any idea nor would they understand the love and devotion we had for each other.

For awhile, I avoided going downtown as much as possible because too many memories were attached to places there. I hid a photo scrapbook of Addie with her letters in my bedroom closet because I couldn't bear to look at them.

When I arrived home from teaching one afternoon, my mother handed me a large heavy brown envelope with a local attorney's return address.

Inside was a cover letter explaining that a sealed document and personal items were to be given to me at the time of Addie's death. Because she was lost at sea, it was deemed that an appropriate amount of time had passed and the envelope was forwarded per Addie's instructions.

Carefully I broke the wax seal and opened the document. It was dated two days before she left for England.

My Dearest Madelyn,
If you are reading this it can only mean one thing; that I perished in England. I hope you can forgive me but Mrs. Roosevelt's speeches urging all American's to do their part lit a fire inside of me. I responded in the only way I know how and rose to the call for action.

I firmly believe that I can make a difference in Britain and hopefully, I have. I can't explain to you why I feel compelled to help my fellow human beings because I'm not certain I know the answer.

But, I am certain of my love for you. From the time I was a little girl, I had romantic notions of finding my one true love. To my surprise, it turned out to be you. This I know to the very depths of my soul.

My darling, you can be impetuous, caring, feisty and passionate but above all I know that you love me.

Try to think about the happy times that we shared and not grieve too much. I regret that I can't be there with you but please know that you've made me so very happy these past few years.

I leave you the two volume set of love sonnets and poems because I know that you cherish them as much as I do. All the love that I have for you and you for me is bound together by the beauty of that wondrous poetry.

Do you remember "A Tale of Two Cities" and the sacrifice that the hero Sydney Carton made to help his fellow man?

The first sentence of the story reads:

"It was the best of times and the worst of times…"

 And the line from the last page:

"…it is to a far, far better place that I go…"
 
Need I say more?

We will meet again my darling in a far, far better place.

I love you with all my heart and soul,
Addie

At the bottom of the brown envelope I found the two, pocket sized leather bound volumes wrapped in flowered paper. The same books that Addie's Aunt Violet gave her as a present during those two heavenly weeks on the Perkiomen River.

The next morning I used my father's last gas ration coupon and drove to the little cottage on River Road. Aunt Violet died in 1939 but the tidy summer home was still there, shuttered for the winter months. Solemnly, I walked down the stairs to the boat dock with the books in hand.

I sat on the cold wood gazing at the bare trees that lined the river banks and heard the sound of distant voices filled with joy and laughter. My heart ached with sorrow as I recalled that magical time when I knew with every fiber of my being that I was in love with Addie.

With the winter sun warming my face, I read aloud the poems that Addie was very fond of:

"Come to me in my dreams, and then
 By day I shall be well again.
 For then the night will more than pay
 The hopeless longing of the day."

I paused for a moment as tears ran down my cheeks then started on another.

"Drink to me, only with thine eyes
 And I will pledge with mine
 Or leave a kiss but in the cup
 And I'll not look for wine."

I read for hours and sometimes with gut wrenching emotion.

In the failing light of the afternoon sun, I stood to leave and looked for the last time at the slow moving auburn water and the stately trees.

In the solitude of my surroundings, I heard Addie's resonate voice reciting a sad poem and wept in remembrance.

"When we two parted
 In silence and tears,
 Half broken-hearted
 To sever the years,
 Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
 Colder, thy kiss;
 Truly that hour foretold
 Sorrow to this."

Addie was absent from my life and the awful finality weighed heavily on my soul.

I ascended the stairs crying my heart out and never returned to that idyllic spot on the Perkiomen River.

The World conflict touched upon the lives of everyone. My precious Addie never made it to England to help those in need. Many lost loved ones both men and women who sacrificed their lives for the greater good.

My brother Philip, a medic in the Army, was killed in action at Anzio in Italy. Under intense enemy fire, he gave his life trying to rescue his company lieutenant and was posthumously awarded a medal for bravery.

Parker Wilburne, a decorated tank commander, was killed in action on Christmas Eve 1944 during the Battle of the Bulge.

My classmates, Elmer Ross, Donald Cramer and Lillian Barrett gave their lives in service to their country. I mourned for them all.

 I volunteered at the USO and every Saturday and Sunday, I served refreshments to GI's. That's where I met my future husband, Ted.

When the war ended, we purchased a marriage license and were married at Holy Trinity Lutheran Church.

I guess the real surprise for me was the love and affection we had for one another. Ted was a good husband and father until he died from lung cancer. Unfortunately, he had picked up the cigarette habit in the Army.

Memories of Addie stayed close to the surface of my mind. Why my dear friend was my first and true love, I was at a loss to comprehend. I searched my soul for the answer but it evaded me.

"It was meant to be," Addie would say in our private moments together and that I believed with all my heart.

I realized that on the merry go round of love the fortunate few get to grab the brass ring when most never get to grasp it at all

At some point, I stopped grieving for what I lost and happily remembered not only the wonderful years of intimacy but the extraordinary times that I shared with Addie growing to adulthood as the closest of friends.

In my minds eye, I saw Addie and me playing tag in her back yard, laughing at a silly joke we heard, singing in the chorus at school, sharing our most personal thoughts with each other, learning the latest dance craze steps in her parlor and splashing in the surf in Atlantic City. The list of treasured memories seemed to be endless.

They were the best years of my life, never to be duplicated again.

The tenderness and depth of feeling that I shared with Addie, eluded me with Ted. Yes, I loved him but it was a faint glow in comparison to the incandescent fire with Addie.

 Over time, the memories faded and receded into the recesses of my mind but never the love in my heart for Addie. It was unquenchable, sturdy and alive.

For many years, I was under the impression that no one in my family knew about Addie and me or so I thought until I got a distressing phone call on November 22nd 1963 from my sister Pauline's husband.

I remember the date specifically because it was the day President Kennedy was shot in Dallas Texas.

Wendell's voice was shaky and I immediately knew that something was seriously wrong.

"Madelyn, I'm sorry to bother you on such a tragic day but Pauline's in the hospital and the prognosis is not good. I was hoping you could come tomorrow to see her," He said sadly.

No sooner had I hung up the phone and I was packing a bag and writing detailed instructions for Ted and Beverly. The following morning before daybreak I was in the car and on the Pennsylvania Turnpike heading west towards Pittsburgh.

When I arrived at Pauline's hospital it was late morning and Wendell was in the waiting room. I asked what happened and his face was grim and pale.

"Pauline had a heart attack yesterday morning at work. She's very weak and the doctors' say it's a matter of days," he said with a distraught look.

I walked with Wendell to her room in the intensive care unit and saw wires and tubes running everywhere.

Pauline appeared to be sleeping when I stood next to her and took her hand in mine. Her eyes opened and she looked at me without recognition for a second.

"Madelyn," she said softly and her face beamed with a smile.

 Pauline and I were not very close as some sisters tend to be but there was a genuine love and affection for each other. She moved to Pittsburgh while I was in college to marry Wendell. We were the only surviving members of our immediate family.

"Pauli, how are you feeling?" I asked gently with wet eyes.

Pauli was the pet name I called her from the time I was very young.

"Terrible, goddamn doctors' don't know anything," she whispered in disgust.

Pauline hated physicians for as long as I could remember.

"Bunch of lame brained quacks if you ask me," she grumbled.

Two nurses and an orderly came to take Pauline for some tests and I sat with Wendell in her room. I was thinking about our childhood when suddenly it dawned on me; she had Scarlet Fever as a child and it damaged her heart.

The nurse on duty advised Wendell that Pauline would be gone for tests most of the day.

 The following morning I arrived to find her sitting up and awake.

"My Witch doctor said I was showing some improvement," she said with sarcasm.

We reminisced about our childhood and talked about everyone that we knew but I purposely avoided talking about the Wilburne's and Addie.

  I could tell that Pauline enjoyed my company and I helped her with her liquid lunch when it arrived. Afterwards, she was gazing at me with a serious but inquisitive look.

"Why haven't you mentioned her?" she asked quietly.

"Who?" I answered knowing exactly the person she was referring to.

"Don't play games with me Madelyn," she said in a slightly roused tone of voice and patted the mattress next to her for me to sit closer.

Pauline took my hand in hers and the unavoidable tears came to my eyes.

"You really loved Addie, quite a lot I gather," she stated with certainty looking into my watery eyes.

I was thoroughly surprised that Pauline knew how I felt about Addie but, there was no sense denying it now.

"How did you know Pauli?" I asked like a child.

"I could tell by the look in your eyes when you were with her, probably more so after you graduated high school," she said weakly.

"She was my one true love," I blubbered with my chin on my chest.

It was the first time I had ever discussed or admitted my feelings about Addie with anyone in my family.

Pauline was patting my hand in sympathy.

"At least you found someone that you truly loved. I wish I could say the same." she said with quiet melancholy.

I stared in disbelief at Pauline.

"Oh, I loved Wendell in the very beginning but it didn't last long. He still loves me though, I can see it in his face," she stated in a whispering voice and her eyes looked heavy.

"I hate to admit it but I had a big crush on Parker Wilburne," she confessed in a low tone with her eyes closed.

Another shocking revelation but just when I thought Pauline was asleep, she opened her eyes and looked at me with a sorrowful expression.

"You know, Madelyn, I think Mr. Wilburne died from a broken heart. He adored Parker and Addie. I think their deaths were just too much for him," she said mournfully with a deep sigh.

Pauline was panting in short raspy breaths.

"Gotta rest now," she informed me in a barely audible voice.

I sat next to my sister, holding her hand while she slept. Addie's father died in 1946 from a heart attack but I think Pauline was right.

Pauline never woke up or spoke again and she slowly slipped away. Wendell got the call from the hospital around four am and I remembered what Addie told me when she worked at Saint Agnes Hospital.

Many terminal patients died in the early morning hours when it's quiet and they feel more at ease about letting go.