Humorous Secret Told About Myself

WHEN I WAS THIRTEEN
When I was in the seventh grade I had a crush on an eighth grade girl. She was very pretty and was a majorette in a marching band. In my mind I can still see a picture of her posing with her majorette uniform and baton. I never talked to her. She didn’t know me. It was a silent, secret romance known only to me, as was the relationship with most all of my childhood girl friends, (and there were a few), yet I was the only one who ever knew.
When school was out for the summer I was thinking about her one day. So, I decided to pull up my courage and call her by telephone. I was home alone. I looked her last name up in the directory, “McKim.” I nervously dialed the number. A girl answered. I stammered out, “Does a Miss Jackie McKim live here?”
“This is she,” was her reply. Wow! First call, first one, the very one who was my heart’s throb was on the line. I noticed how proper her English grammar was. My palms were sweaty. I stammered out my rehearsed line,
“I… I… I just wanted to say… that I love you.” Then I quickly hung up the phone (Those were the days long before caller I.D. was even thought of). I sat there in nervous silence. I was afraid by what I had done. I was afraid the phone was going to ring and someone was going to say, “What did you do a stupid thing like that for?”
But there was no ring; the telephone remained silent. I finally got up and went about the day, vowing never to do a dumb thing like that again.
LESSON: After 54 years I still remember this incident clearly. Why? I remember her name, what she looked like, what I said, and the way I felt. I think it must be because it was such a traumatic experience, and a departure from my usual secretive personality. It has made me think, trauma is not such a bad thing when it makes such an imprint on our memory. Perhaps there are bad things we wish we could forget, but if all our traumatic experiences were forgotten, we would, no doubt, keep making many of the same mistakes.
This incident is humorous now, but at the time I would have never dared to tell a soul about what I had done. I saw this girl once more about a year later. It was during a visit of our eighth grade class to the high school we would attend the next school term. I still did not talk to her, nor try to get her attention in any way. It was enough just to look and remain silent. She was still very pretty. I never saw her again, for we moved away to Oregon before the next school term began. Pretty girls always made me crawl back into my shell. Fortunately, I grew out of my shyness long enough to tell Lois I loved her and not hang up, or or I would not have the family I have today.