A Time to Love

Lillie

AS MICHAEL AND I CONTINUED speaking on the phone, I started having indescribable feelings. I kept thinking, This is not happening! I can’t be feeling this. I like him, but as a friend; and it’s going to stay that way. I didn’t want to be in love; I had stopped believing in it, and I fought it. After my divorce, I had considered myself finished. My sense of idealism had evaporated, my thinking had become practical and exacting, and I had become emotionally guarded. I had a household to maintain and bills to pay, alone. I was very focused on raising my children, making sure they finished school and started on their paths as young adults. I had a lot going on in my life, and I didn’t need any additional stress or complications. Becoming romantically involved, or vulnerable to another human being, was something I refused to consider. When Michael told me that he loved me, my response was, Do you mind if I don’t say that back to you? He very calmly responded, No, I don’t mind. I’m a patient man.

Michael

IN FLORIDA, I’D GOTTEN TO the point where I couldn’t sleep at night. Something was keeping me awake. I think it was God shaking me, saying, You are in love. I wasn’t looking for love at first. I had insulated myself against any pain, allowing no one into that private place. Talking with Lillie got me past all of that, though. She reached deep inside of me with a key, and the door to my heart opened. She unlocked the inner me and released love that I didn’t even know I had, love deeper than I had ever known.

Lillie and I had to face the fact that we were nine hundred miles apart. She was in Virginia and I was in Florida, and seeing each other on weekends was not an option. It was a major challenge, but it wasn’t insurmountable. We worked very hard to establish our unconditional commitment to one another, so that there would be no room for distrust. We didn’t question each other’s commitment. We didn’t jump to conclusions if one of us did not answer the phone. There was no jealousy, no need to account for what we had been doing or where we’d been. We never questioned each other. We established that level of trust by having some very difficult conversations. We decided to put everything on the table. Somehow, we knew that this was worth the risk. Our biggest challenge was figuring out a way to actually meet. In the meantime, the phone calls had to suffice. I didn’t see Lillie until long after we began talking. We actually talked over a year before we saw each other, and Lillie had never even sent me a photo of herself. All of our feelings were based on trust, faith and clear communication.

It wasn’t long before I began feeling very close to Lillie. I wanted to be near her and with her—I knew that even before we reconnected in person. Our conversations were just so alive and fulfilling. It got to the point where we knew we needed to see each other. I needed something—an affirmation. We both decided that July 4 would be a good time for me to visit her in Virginia.

Lillie

MICHAEL FLEW TO VIRGINIA TO meet me. He had emailed me a picture of himself months earlier, but I had never sent him one of me. He told me, I’ll be the guy in the red shirt and blue jeans. I didn’t think it would be difficult to spot Michael, but I wasn’t expecting five other men to get off that plane wearing red shirts and blue jeans. Two of them were too old, two of them were too young, and one of them was too short. I was standing just beyond the walkway with my daughter, Elizabeth, who had accompanied me. I turned to her, ready to say, I’ll bet Michael is not even wearing a red shirt and blue jeans, thinking he might be playing a joke. Suddenly, a group of four people walking side-by-side split apart. Behind them walked a man in a red shirt and blue jeans. My breath left my body.

I recognized Michael immediately and said, Oh my God, it’s him. I stood there, watching him walk toward us. I felt frozen. A part of me wanted to run toward him, but I couldn’t move. It was as if everything stopped; all the sounds, movement and excitement around us. All of the people became a blur that faded to the background. All I could see was Michael and all I could hear was my own heart beating. Only twice before had I ever known a moment this pure and this powerful: at the birth of my son, and at the birth of my daughter. It was as if time, itself, stood still.

As Michael approached us, I thought, Oh, God, I’ve got to see it. Dear God, I’ve got to see what I’m looking for in his eyes, and I’ve got to see it now. As he came closer, I thought, If I don’t see it, there will be no hard feelings. If I don’t see what I need to see, this will be a nice, friendly visit. He’ll go back to Florida, and this will all be over. I was watching intently. As Michael came within two feet of me, we looked at each other, and I saw it. There were no words for that moment. When he embraced me, I couldn’t let him go. We stood there, hugging each other, for what felt like forever. I was overjoyed—what I needed to see, I saw; what I needed more than anything, I found. Later, Michael asked me what was it I waited to see in his eyes. I told him: Truth.

Michael

THAT FIRST VISIT WAS CRITICAL. It would be our first time seeing each other again since the seventies, and we really put everything on the line. I didn’t have a picture of Lillie, although I had emailed her one of me. I didn’t know if she was taller or shorter, if she was bald or if she had hair all the way down to her ankles. She hadn’t shared that information with me, and I had never asked her to describe herself. In New Orleans she had been absolutely beautiful, so I didn’t have any doubts about that. The fact remained, however, that, up to that point, we had developed our entire relationship on the phone, sight unseen. I had to see her. I had to look into her eyes. I needed to see her look at me with joy. There are some people you can’t get close to, regardless of proximity. I knew that if I felt that barrier with Lillie, there could be nothing more between us than candid friendship and mutual respect.

I started looking for Lillie the moment I stepped off the plane. I didn’t know what she looked like, nor had she told me what she was going to wear. I was just hoping I would recognize her. I was looking all over, trying to figure out where she was. I felt like I was inside a maze. I had told her what I would be wearing - a red polo shirt and blue jeans. After all this time, would she know me? How would I know her? What would I say first? Questions flooded my mind.

I was one of the last people to exit the plane. As I entered the terminal, I began worrying that she might think I hadn’t come when I finally saw her! I can’t say how I knew it was her, I just did! My heart started jumping, and I started to feel overheated. As I moved closer, I thought, Oh, my God! My feet felt like weights and I thought I was going to stumble and fall. I struggled to breathe. This was it: the critical time and place. I didn’t make a nine hundred mile trip to shake hands, or to say, Have a nice day. I went there to see the person I’d fallen in love with; to hold her, to kiss her, to look into her eyes and know if this was real.

Seeing and holding Lillie felt like a geyser exploding. I knew then it was deep love. It wasn’t shallow, short-lived love. It was long term, unconditional, and beautiful. People smiled at us as we hugged. We held each other until the terminal closed, until there was no one else around us. Embracing Lillie validated my belief that I had not gone to Virginia in vain.