When You Find Your Soul Mate, Again (part one)

If you have followed my posts here, or over  on the Prose writing site, then you will know 2013 was a difficult year for Grandpa. A heart attack, a broken back, and then the ending of a 33 year-long marriage, made for some necessary reflection and change. I rediscovered my passion for writing at that point, and it turned out I actually enjoyed my own company.

Sadly, I quit really caring much about my body, and instead focused on my mind, my heart, and my writing. I decided that being alone was okay, and I planned on finishing whatever was left of my life by myself, with my family as support.

That was true for the next 10 years, and I slowly began to age more, I gained a lot of weight, wrote stories, studied classical poetry, and produced a lot of books for other authors. In 2020, as we all dealt with the Covid-19 pandemic, I found myself at almost 350 pounds, and knew I had to do something. Not because I really cared what anyone saw when they looked at me—my family were the only ones around me anyway—but because my size and weight were in my way. I had no illusions about wearing a swimsuit again, I simply wanted to be able to bend over and tie my shoes, and not run out of breath walking up a flight of stairs.

I elected to have an operation which removed about 70% of my stomach, forcing me to eat smaller portions, more often. Most people lose 100-150 pounds after the operation. I only lost 70 and then I plateaued, mostly due to my sedentary lifestyle, which was easy to blame on my broken back, but was more about not caring enough to do the required work. Losing that weight really did improve my quality of life, and I have stayed in the 280-290 range since then. 

In early January of 2023, a torn rotator-cuff required major shoulder surgery. After surgery, I found myself around family members, but mostly recovering alone, doing physical therapy alone, and living and sleeping alone in my room, all the while convincing myself that what I had was enough.

The Call

Back in 2015 I had reconnected, via Facebook, with the first girl I ever kissed while we were teenagers, back in the days before Mt. St. Helens woke up angry, when cable TV was still new, MTV was all the rage, and cell phones were still science-fiction. I wasn't sure she would even talk to me, because back then I had run away from the intense feelings we shared, without ever telling her why.

Luckily, she did message me back, and it seemed like she had actually forgiven me, which warmed my heart. We stayed Facebook friends for years, and it was nice but that was the extent of our relationship, or so I thought. 

Then, on January 24th, 2023, I posted a published poem (Ever Flowing) on my Facebook feed. She saw it and messaged me, asking if she could call me on the phone to discuss it. I gave her my number and she called me. I was prepared to reminisce about our teenage years, and hopefully apologize for running away from her.

That all changed the minute I heard her voice. 

Something magical happened at that point. She walked right through all of my walls and defenses, and I found that she fit perfectly inside a hole I never even realized I had been carrying in my soul for most of my life. We talked for over an hour, even though it felt like mere minutes. I wasn't sure how or why, but I knew I wanted to talk to her more.

That was the beginning of what became nightly conversations that lasted hours, as we discovered the truth behind our early years, and learned about each other's lives and families. Unexpectedly, I found myself very quickly falling deeply in love with this wonderful woman I hadn't seen in decades, and we both discovered that through the grace of God, we share an almost mystical spiritual bond.

The Poem

On February 14th, after a little over two weeks, I wrote a poem (From Her, Back To Her) about what had happened, what was still happening, and what I hoped could happen going forward. I didn't even realize the significance of the date, or that this was the first Valentine's Day gift I had ever given her.

The strangest part of the story to this point, was that even though I had intentionally stopped using the word PROMISE with anyone, I made her three actual promises in that poem on that day, after less than a month of being re-connected.

It turns out that while I had once written a poem about that first kiss, which we shared so many years ago, this was the first poem I wrote not just about her, but for her. It was not, however, the last; since then I have created a couple others which are even deeper and more sentimental, but that is a tale for another day.

For now, just know Grandpa has opened his soul and handed his heart to an amazing woman, and she is holding it in her beautiful and skilled hands now. It is important to know she is safeguarding it, since this message, like always, comes straight,

From Grandpa's Heart...