Jack Hawn
It was so many years ago when I first met her, but almost like yesterday. Charlene, the love of my life, dominated my thoughts deep into the night and early morning hours. After seven years, I still grieved like a lost puppy missing its mom. Insomnia can be dreadful, incurable in some cases, I suppose. Married sixty-three years, Charlene left me looking as beautiful as the day she stepped into my life on her way home from high school to say hello to Onalee, her next-door girlfriend. Wearing my Army uniform on my first military pass, I knew I had to see more of this beautiful girl, but Charlene made it clear that wouldn’t happen. 'I’m going steady,' she said. 'He’s in the service. He’s away now.' With that bombshell, Charlene walked out the door. Onalee, the boyfriend’s younger sister, turned to me, and shrugged with a small smile. 'Guess she’s unavailable Jack.' Unavailable? I didn’t need a dictionary to define the word. But unavailable? She’s right next door...and probably long overdue for a fun weekend. My sleepy girlfriend, stirred, planted her feet on the floor, yawned, ran her hand through her hair and rose. 'Be right back honey,' she mumbled, and headed for the bathroom. I checked the clock, grimaced, then resumed my trek down memory lane.
