“I will never forget the summer of 1964. The sun shone brightly every day down onto the old field we used to run around on. They’ve long since been turned into apartment complexes, but I still remember how the golden fields looked, as we danced around in the tall grasses. His eyes happy, his soul alive.; his spirit  completely uncontained.

It was there that we first met. We were just kids, 4 years old maybe 5. I can’t remember now, it’s been so long. Ever since then we had been inseparable. ‘Good little Lily Cordner, and her neighbor James Straught. He was a good boy.’ People would say. As we got older, we only grew closer, never letting the nasty realities of life into our little world. When we were there, we were happy.

It was there that he asked me on our first date. We were only 16, it was 1961. Of course I said yes, I had been wishing for so long he would that he would ask.  We went out to a local diner. It was a small town then, we only really had one. Paul’s, it was called back then. Down where the Pizza Hut is now. He picked me up in his dad’s car; he was wearing what also looked like his dad’s suit. I couldn’t help but chuckle when I opened the front door. His smile gleaming on. That smile was so contagious. I even smile now, when I think about it from time to time.

3 years later, young and completely in love, it was there he told me he joined the army. We stood in that field-one of the last summer night suns diving for the horizon. He stood there, looking in my face for something. I remember it clear as day, when I close my eyes I can still see his face in my mind. I stood there, stuttering, completely lost for words. The wind blowing my hair around, tears started lining my eyes and all that came out was ‘Why?’ he didn’t say anything. He just stood there. I repeated louder. ‘Why?!’ and he didn’t say anything. ‘I did this for us.’ He finally said. ‘I did this for you.’ And the tears began. ‘I  did this because I love you, and I want to protect you.’ He told me. It sure didn’t feel like that.
He left that autumn. Just as the trees lining our field started turning red. I watched him board the bus, taking him away. Looking at him as they drove away I kept face, just as any respectable lady does. But as soon as he was gone and all the other families sending off their loved ones had left and I was alone on a dirt road, I ran as fast as I could back to our spot. I fell to the ground, surrounded by the dried grass and left over crops that hadn’t been collected during harvest. Lying in the dirt, I cried harder than most could imagine. I remember asking why, why this was happening to me, why I deserved this.
He still tried, at first a letter came every other day. Gradually that turned into once a week, which turned into once a month, which turned into hardly at all. I waited as long as I could. I was lonely, sad and vulnerable. That’s when I met your Grandpa Lucas; he was new in town and oh was he a good man. Respectable. Noble. A hardworking farmer. That’s what every woman around here wanted at the time. We began talking as James’ letters grew few and far between. We became closer, my father loved him, and my mother adored him. All the girls wanted him, and somehow I had him. But James’ was always on my mind. I pushed your grandpa away. Somehow it seemed easier to not be close to anyone, than remember what it felt like to have someone, just for them to be ripped away.

It was July 1965. The sun had been baking on the field all day, the humidity hit an all time high. I spent that day lying next to our field, reading my book under the shade of the big oak tree that is still out there now. I was leaned against that tree trunk for hours, lost in some book I have forgotten the name of.  A car pulled up along the dirt road, just past the oak tree. A military vehicle, what appeared to be a general stepped out, his hat held delicately under his arm. “Are you Miss Lily Cordner?” He asked sadly.
It was in that field, our field, which I learned James would not be coming home.
His funeral was early August. His body had been shipped back to be with his family. I tried to go, I truly did. I had my dress on, my handkerchief ready, and as I walked past our field I thought I saw him standing in it. Maybe it was the light of the setting sun, or maybe it was my mind choosing not to believe he was gone. But I ran, I ran so fast to the middle of the field and when I got there, there was nobody there. But for a split moment I really thought I had seen him. My father was quickly behind me; I spun around burying my sobbing face into him. ‘I saw him, Daddy. I saw him.’ I kept repeating as the tears streamed down my face and we fell on the ground, my father never letting go of me. We never made it past there. My mother went to the funeral and gave our sympathy to James’ family. I never saw his parents again.

But life moves on. Summer turned to fall, fall turned to winter; winter turned to spring. Lucas and I grew close over the winter, and in the spring he helped my father get ready for growing season. He was around all the time, and he was a shoulder to cry on. It was a completely natural progression with us, so I wasn’t the least bit surprised when he asked me to marry him, and it wasn’t a surprise to anyone when I said yes. I suppose the rest is history, really. But I tell you, I loved your grandfather so very much, but not a day has gone by that I don’t think of James. Although I cannot remember his voice anymore, even his face becomes hazy some days, I still think of him every day, and I cannot wait to see him again. One day, we will meet in that field, and one day, we won’t have to leave.”