(I continue the story, having had to break it into 2 parts due to size limits on blogs.)

As I grew older, Mr. Dotson taught me about love. He told me of how he had gone to ask Mrs. Dotson’s father for permission to take her to their high school sweetheart dance. How the Mrs. father had teased him that first time he asked her to the dance. He also told of how a few years later he went to ask her father’s permission to take her as his bride and how scared he was to ask. As they looked at each other you could see they were still very much in love. Even as inexperienced as I was, the deep love they had for one another could not go un-noticed.

Mr. Dotson told me one day I would find the love of my life. He said I would experience a feeling inside like no other when I looked at her and later when I touched her and still later when I kissed her. He said it would be the greatest feeling I ever experienced. Through junior high school and on into high school he continued to give me fatherly advice about girls and many other things in adult life. We shared so much time together, I think at one point my own mother became jealous of the Dotson’s. She at one time made me stay away from them for a week claiming I was being a nuisance, until Mrs. Dotson called and talked with her. She assured my mother that I was not a nuisance and they enjoyed my company very much and had been missing me. Mother relented but I could tell she was still jealous of all the time I spent with the Dotson’s.

I was now 17 and had already signed up to go into the Marines. The war was at its highest levels now. I stopped by and told the Dotson’s of my decision and the Mrs. began crying. She pulled me to her and said we’ll miss you so much young man, but we are so proud of you son. She called me Son? Those were some of the most special words I felt I would ever hear. Tears began to well up in my eyes. Mr. Dotson hugged me, telling me how proud he was of the young man I’d grown to be. He shook my hand just as he had some 7 years ago on that soft summer day when we first met under that old cherry tree. I said my good-byes and left, somewhat sad, but proud. Proud of the friendship we had developed and proud to know I had two of the most special people in the world in my life and that I had 'made them proud'.

When I was injured in Vietnam and after being hospitalized for a few weeks, I was sent home on medical leave. My second stop after visiting with my parents was to be with the Dotson’s. I knocked on the door and Mrs. Dotson appeared as usual. She had a huge smile on her face when she recognized me, but I immediately saw something very different in her eyes.

I realized that I was seeing the look of grief and deep pain in her eyes. Perhaps something I learned to recognize while I was in Vietnam, I don’t know. I should have known, but I had to ask her even though I already knew the answer. I said ‘Where is Mr. Dotson’ and looking into her sad eyes, the answer was painfully clear. No words were necessary. But, as if a great dam had burst she first began to cry softly and then the tears came hard and she was sobbing as she told me Mr. Dotson had passed away the previous spring. I don’t believe a bullet piercing my heart would have hurt any worse at this moment. The feeling of loss was immediate and harsh. I was so very sad for Mrs. Dotson. I was sad for me. The tears of loss poured out of my eyes and down my cheeks. I was feeling such shock but I could not begin to imagine what a loss this woman was suffering; this woman who had been married to this same man for over 65 years. The loss was evident in her eyes and on her face. She didn’t even look like the same woman I had left just a few short months earlier.

We held each other tightly not saying a word. The strong sense of loss and grief overwhelmed me. We visited awhile and I assured her I was going to be okay and that I could and would take care of myself when I returned to Vietnam. I would be sure and write to her and she would me. We said our goodbyes that day but somehow I knew it would be the last time I saw her, too. The deep grief would eventually do its dirty deed. It happened all the time. I would miss these two people I had grown up to love. I could not stand to see her that way, so completely grief stricken. Perhaps my experiences in Vietnam had not hardened me as much as I thought. She was grieving herself to death and that made me very sad. I left that day with tears in my eyes and a pain in my heart.

When I finished my second year in Vietnam, I was sent home for 30 days leave. My first stop as I returned to the old neighborhood was to see Mrs. Dotson. I saw a real estate sign in the yard. There were several people hustling in and out, carrying things out of the house and loading them on a covered trailer. I pulled up in the driveway, stopped and got out of my car. When a man came out of the house again I approached him and introduced myself. He was about 40-45 years old, their youngest son.

Mrs. Dotson had passed 5 months ago and they were removing the possessions collected by these two wonderful people during 65 plus years together. The house that he and his brother never seemed to have time to visit was being sold. I looked at him in disgust as I turned and as I was walking away, tears streaming down my face, I said ‘you should have come a lot sooner’. This was to be one of the saddest days of my life.

Slowly, I walked around the house to that place where it had all began so many years before, underneath that old cherry tree. I cried away the tears and said a small prayer for these two wonderful people; truly two lovers from the day of their union, for more than 65 years until death they did part; two people I had grown to love so dearly; two people I would dearly miss in the years to come.

Looking to the top of that old cherry tree, to my once favorite spot among the branches, through the tears, I smiled, remembering so vividly that first day a new neighbor called me out of that tree. A soft breeze began to blow and as it dried my tears I smiled thinking how truly great my childhood had been after these people took me under their wing and shared their love with me so freely, so completely, just as they had loved each other all those years. I felt I was given a very special gift having had these wonderful old people come into my life and share with me so much. I was such a lucky young boy.

I often look back on the days of my childhood. I had a good life as a child. I learned my values from good, loving people. But, I’ll never forget two of the most wonderful, most loving and certainly most important people to come into my life, Mr. And Mrs. Dotson. I am thankful for the times we shared and for the lessons they taught me. I know I was lucky to have had the time with them that I did have and thankful they took me under their wing. I thought of them this sad day, but I knew deep in my heart that these two lovers were at rest, in eternal peace, hand in hand together again at last. Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Dotson for the special gifts you so freely shared with me. Thank you both for the love you bestowed on me. I miss you both and God knows I love you both, then, and always.