Young Love

 I'll think of you when I remember my youth and the things I'll always cherish. We held hands as we window-shopped, dreaming of someday having that red couch you would stare at until I squeezed your hand gently, and we moved on. I stopped at another store where hardware of all kinds lined the walls, but only one thing caught my eye, and I froze in place, staring. A John Deer lawn tractor with all the attachments, That yellow and green, a symbol of quality and long life. We laughed as we walked to the next window—a glass showroom where six new cars and trucks shined like a new coin. I want the red one, you said, to match my couch. I chose the green pickup truck. After all, every farm needs a truck that matches the tractor.

We continued our window shopping and came to the only place we could actually buy something: ice cream. I loved the smell of an ice cream parlor: the stainless-steel coolers and the sweetness of dozens of toppings. In a glass case were homemade chocolates of every kind. Trays of them in assorted goodness. Peanut clusters, cherry-filled chocolates, solid squares of solid chocolate, and so many more. The endless sound of mixers making malts and shakes filled the air as the laughter and excitement of children pointed to the flavor they wanted in a sugar cone. We pooled our coins and ordered a chocolate shake with two straws. We left the parlor and entered the darkness as stores began closing for the night. We strolled, holding hands, until we reached her house, where I saw her father through the window reading the newspaper or at least pretending he was. I saw her mom peering out of the curtains, quickly ducking back so she wouldn't be seen. There is a lot to say about first dates and first loves. And having the gift of memory keeps those times alive and ready to be remembered and lived again.

Mike 2024