The True Story of My Life #13 (Closure)

About the time I decided to sell my house, I realized it was not my time to go overseas. I figured first I needed to help out my own community, right where I was at. So I decided to take the $40,000 I made off of my house investment (after the sale) and use it to pay for my independent volunteer work. Once my house sold, I needed a place to live so I moved in with Halea Myers and 2 other roommates, in Lake Oswego.

I don't know that it was the best move. I should have stayed in the St. John's area, to do such work, because this is where the kids were, who came to me, and it was an area of need. Lake Oswego wasn't exactly an area of need. I found it strange to go to the mall and suddenly notice this sea of white faces. I was used to a diverse racial mix. Just moving 30 minutes away had changed things. I missed my black gospel choir. I missed Eric Knox, my supervisor in charge of the Jr. High and high school group. I missed the man I never got to know well enough, because he was getting married.

When we were back in Oregon, after the DR trip, I still saw him at church and other events. One night, I called him. I still remember where I was, because I was in the tub. It really was not a sexy thing. I talked to even my good girlfriends while I was in the tub. I read books in the tub too, filling with more hot water when it got cold. I had drinks and snacks in the tub...okay, well you get the idea. So it wasn't a sexy thing and he simply came to mind and I called him up. I didn't know what to say and made something up. Some excuse for calling. I was going to end it, but he lingered. Neither one of us said anything very important. I think I shared a little about disappointments with God, but was vague. He listened. I really cannot put into words the significance of the conversation, because it was fraught with the same tensions from DR, and yet I said nothing about my feelings, and while he may have hinted at some things, I was too anxious to go that direction. I wanted him to make up his own mind, but I cared about him too. In a way, I was saying goodbye. I wanted one chance to speak with him, about nothing at all, before he was married. I said nothing provocative, and hinted at nothing. I'm sure he didn't know I was in the tub because I was very still and focused on words. I certaintly didn't want him to hear the water splashing around and wonder what the heck was going on (?!). I remember hoping there wasn't a "shower stall" echo. His voice was calm and reassuring. I was still in my house, this was before I sold it.

I went to his wedding. It was beautiful. She was beautiful and he looked very handsome. They had a video or whatever on the large screen, of their lives separate and then together. First, her life as an individual. Then it showed his life. The video was flashing through his friends, and family, and then there was a photo of me. It took my breath away. It was a headshot of me, looking at him with one eyebrow raised, and I think I was smiling. I was wearing that tortoise-shell headband and a green shirt. It was just me, and it was me for a long time. It lasted longer than most the other photos of others (or I thought it did). He was still standing up front, and instead of looking at the screen, he was looking at me as well. Other people in the church turned and looked at me. It wasn't like I had been his best friend. It was unusual. And it struck me at my heart. I didn't react. I looked ahead at the screen and avoided his eyes. At the reception, he looked over at me a few times but they were busy too. I sat down next to a woman I didn't know. She and I began to talk, about life and we some things in common. I was wearing a leopard print sheath dress and black heels. Everyone else was standing, milling around, and there was a semi circle of chairs which were empty and she and I sat next to eachother and just talked. I noticed his brother look over at me a few times. I later found out, it was their mother. She was smart and well educated.

Something hurt after that day, but I didn't know what it was. All I knew, was that I had done the right thing, and he had done the right thing. They were a better pair, and had we even tried anything, it could have destroyed something good that had already been established. It was risky, and I wasn't going to hint that I would have him, unless he had already made up his mind about the direction of his life. But I thought about our conversation--the only one we ever had alone, and I thought about the photo of me at his wedding and how he looked at me.

And I moved forward, and they had a child within a year. I saw her once, with her best friend, and both were pushing strollers in their early 20s. I thought, "I'm glad that's not me!" I didn't want to be a young mother. I also thought about how some had told me he was emotional sometimes--would cry over things most men didn't cry over, and I don't know what I would think of that. It was for the best. I still remember that night in DR, and everything else though.

I soon sold my house, moved to Lake Oswego (as our black youth pastor called it: "Lake No-negro", and tried to figure out how to spend my money and what sort of volunteer ventures to pursue. My house sale closed and a very small part of my heart closed at the same time.

I told no one about any part of my feelings for him, not even close friends. I kept it to myself for over 7 or more years and I've no regrets. When I did share it with a good friend from church I'd known for over 10 years, she was upset, and suddenly wanted to guard her husband from me. I guess she wondered what else I didn't talk about. She said, "And you told me you always thought of my husband as a brother, and then yesterday you said you thought he was attractive!" I guess she didn't believe I could think he was okay looking and still only think of him as my brother. It didn't matter that nothing happened with this other man who was engaged, or that I concealed my feelings and often moved out of the way of his questions and attention. It was threatening enough, and this was part of the reason I didn't tell anyone for so many years. I was also protecting him because I understood him in this situation and knew others wouldn't understand what the connection was.

I had a photo of him, surrounded by the guys, in a pyramid. I took it with a 35 mm in black and white. He is looking directly into the camera, and has a big grin on his face. One of his less serious looks. I never heard someone so quiet talk so much with his eyes.