I Remember

I remember his green eyes, beautiful aquiline nose, white skin, and big bushy afro. He was the handsomest man I had ever met. At 19-years-old, he still kept his boy-like appearance. When you looked into his face, you could not help but see the innocence of youth.

We would walk along the street and all the young girls would stare at him. Some would be bold enough to come up and talk to him, ignoring me completely. I remember how good it felt to be with someone who was so good looking, far better looking than I would ever be. I knew that other girls wanted him badly but he was mine; all mine. I remember how generous he was; giving everything he had to anyone in need. Material possessions were not important to him. He received far more joy, just in the giving. Sometimes he made me angry giving away everything like that, but I always loved him for his good heart.

He saw beauty in everyone. He had not yet learned to be suspicious of people in the big city. He had not learned that some people were simply manipulators. Even though I was just as young, we came from two different worlds. I understood the dangers of big city life. He understood the meaning of true friendship and the safety of the island paradise he called home.

He would walk along the streets of Montreal, smile and say hello to everyone he met. He did not understand why people would give him a funny look and walk away. Everyone in Barbados would nod and say hello. They did not have to know you. All they knew was that you were another human being and worthy of love and respect.

I remember how I was concerned that Tony never really proposed to me. Our son was on the way and I wanted to get married sooner than planned. We went to the jewelry store and picked out our rings. My blue-chip diamond gold engagement ring was set in a very unique triangle flower. It was the envy of all my friends. I loved that ring more than any possession I have ever had in my life. I still wear it after all these years even though we have long since divorced. Tony faithfully made weekly payments for three months until he could get it out of the store. But still he had not proposed to me.

I remember Valentines Day, February 14, 1976. It was the official date of our engagement. I remember Tony taking the rings out of the boxes and placing the engagement ring on my hand. I watched as he admired his own wedding band. He turned it around and around in his hand. Oh how he loved that ring.

Just before he put it back into the box and away for safe keeping, he said to me, "Carol, when are you going to marry me? I can't wait a second longer." My heart swelled as never before. I finally knew that his heart felt the same way as mine.

Of all the good times that we shared before our divorce and before my husband's illness, I will always remember the beauty of his heart.