The Secret of Youth
“A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years.” ~ Rupert Booke
Some things about England that make me young again: counting out change like a first grader to a grinning clerk; losing my way on what should be a familiar street and stopping to cry a little; wrinkling my nose at beans for breakfast or mushy peas for dinner; understanding every third word in a language I thought I knew; driving the drivers I’m dependent on crazy pointing out red double-decker buses and underbellies of giant planes.
I am also completely
a child watching a West End show, leaning forward as though I might leap on stage, beaming with an intensity that could distract serious actors. I’m no better at concerts: the Shrewsbury Orchestra playing Cole Porter or the Army Big Band cranking out Glen Miller makes me clap too loud and wiggle too much for mature British sensibilities. And although I may distract adults with my constant “what’s that?”s — children love me: playing Barbies or pirates is THE best way to practice an English accent.
But for all my helplessness and exuberance, there was a moment last Saturday when I felt youngest of all, the freshest I’ve felt since moving. Dale and I had made our way through a hot day to a county fair in the village of Barnes. We rock-n-rolled like preteens as our friend Lindsay sang with her crazy fun band; ate lunch at a round table I fought like a King Arthur for; and bought a set of ceramic goblets that must have belonged to a fat squire once.
Making our way out of the peasant throng toward the train, we were arrested by this sight:
A carousel.
Not just any carousel: this one was set apart, other-worldly, right out of little-girl-dreams.
Dale excitedly maneuvered us to the side where the real pipe organ was tooting away and pointed out the lady conductor, waving her wooden arms. We could only get a peek at her through the horses that looked so real — in a fantastic sort of way — we believed they might jump off and join a fox hunt any minute. Charmingly, there was nothing to stop them – no fence, no barrier, no carnival workers. In fact, nothing prevented us, or the little people around us, from coming up close to the undulating riders.
We stood like that for a long while.
And then it happened.
A kiss.
Not just any kiss: this one was set apart, other-worldly, right out of little-girl-dreams.
Past and present were all mushed up in that kiss. I felt deliriously adolescent and adored; hardly noticing that horses hung in mid-air, folks froze in mid-step and pipe organ paused mid-melody — all suspended in time until my boy and I took another breath.
Ahhhh.
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“There have been five great kisses since 1642 B.C…(before then couples hooked thumbs.) And the precise rating of kisses is a terribly difficult thing, often leading to great controversy…Well, this one left them all behind.” William Goldman, The Princess Bride, Chapter One
Hint of Romance
To keep your love young, to clear the slate, kiss in the morning and kiss at noon; kiss with purpose or kiss for no reason; just don’t forget to kiss.
Kisses can change everything in an instant! My most memorable kiss was when I was only 18 years old – on New Year’s Eve, I finally had a DATE for NYE!!!! – my boyfriend of almost a year and I were at the stake NYE dance and things had been a little strained for us. Ed was acting funny (later I came to understand that he was insecure if I talked to other fellas and he had watched me greet and visit with several old friends and was quite out of sorts about it over the Christmas break from BYU). Well, midnight was seconds away and everyone was poised with their noise makers, including Ed, and at 3 – 2 – 1 – HAPPY NEW YEAR – I finally was able to do what my little girl heart had been dreaming about for 18 years – a NYE kiss! I grabbed Ed midst his horn blowing and laid a kiss on him not to be forgotten! He was SO not expecting it, and that I initiated it, right there in front of the whole stake, claiming him as mine – no words could have the same impact as that kiss for his aching heart.
It was an event unto itself. Worth being born for. A sweet memory that is mine forever.
I love that story! Maybe I need to write a Musing called “A Kiss Can Change Everything in an Instant”…
Oh Debbi! Your little story is just as wonderful and heartwarming as Mona’s! Both sound oh so romantic!!! Mona, this story (including the carousel horses) has really taken me away to all those dreamy little girl moments when you imagine the knight on the white horse charging up at just the right second to save you from danger and sweeping you up into his arms for the most romantic and heart pounding kiss of a lifetime! That kind of kiss, like Wesley and Buttercup’s, is just what I imagine, just what you and Dale had by the carousel and get to experience forever! I’m so grateful that you and Dale have each other to cherish for the eternities!
Sharon — what a beautiful comment!!!! YOU sweep ME away!
I’m VERY much looking forward to it! :-)
I like the carousel reference. My mom LOVES carousels. When I’m on my own and I see one, I make sure to ride it for my mother.
Heidi – did you click on the picture?! It comes alive — just like Harry Potter!
Oh, how fun!!
“Sweet 16 and never been kissed”… plus 15 years.
There are times I genuinely ache for “my time”, “my chance”…
I think I understand a tiny bit about the aching….since Dale has traveled extensively for so many years…when he is gone for an extended period and I see a passionate TV or movie kiss – the longing hurts. It must hurt so much more though to be open-ended in your anticipation. My heart goes out to you and I’m sending all my good thoughts and wishes to heaven to bring you the world’s BEST kisser — pronto!
I know a little how you feel as well momsie. When Grant has left for two-weeks at a time, the romance movies are the worst kind. They just hurt! The worst was when we had not seen each other for a week and a half and then got together but were not “allowed” to kiss because he was “in uniform” for a performance. Sometimes, breaking the rules doesn’t make you feel quite so guilty . . . :)
Same here. The last few months have been the hardest for me, so far.
I too saved my first kiss till I was engaged to my forever sweetheart. I did not have to wait as long as you, but I can tell you that in my experience, he was worth every second of the wait. and he still is. :)
Yesterday I was standing at the luggage carousel in the PDX airport waiting for my bag to come spinning by. Next to me I heard a squeal, a sniffle, and a smack. I looked over and directly to my left, so close that I could reach out, a couple had abandoned all notion of public decency as they lovingly greeted one another with a passionate embrace. My grin could not be contained.
I thought back to a recent reunion of my own. Two weeks was a long time and as Grant walked up to me outside the SLC airport, beaming brighter than the blinding sun above. So often had I imagined him in his absence, that I almost did not believe he was really there. Time slowed– it really did! — as he approached without a word and leaned in for a welcome kiss. I did not grasp reality again until entwined in his arms, so much stronger than mine, he pushed me towards the car.
I love that you feel like a child, seeing and experiencing the world in a new way all over again. Doesn’t it make you hungry to serve a mission with Dale? I’m sure you would have the same experiences but in a whole new way in which you get to experience them the Lord’s way while doing his work. However, I think if we’re doing things right – we’re always experiencing life in new ways while doing his work.
About kisses. . . . Just the other day Jon told me that he knows all of my kisses. I was glad, but also a bit disappointed because I don’t want him to be bored – I’d like to be able to surprise him here and there – and have been trying. My attempts mostly end in fits of laughter – for both of us. Knowing each others’ kisses is a good thing . . . . a REALLY good thing. Thanks for your fun musing!
Hey, Mona, at our house we have always called it “snogging.” For some reason, it seems cooler to use a good ol’ British slang word. Evan even made a CD labeled “snogging songs.” So, snog on!
We miss you lots – when are you coming home for a little visit?