Thank you, Ruth, for reminding me of some precious memories. I never went away to camps, but hanging in the neighborhood on the south side of Chicago presented me with many opportunities for a "first kiss". Her name was Cindy and I knew her "from around". I think she was probably more interested in me, than I her. We spent a few nights in groups talking about all sorts of things and eventually kissed. It was sweet and gentle. But for me it produced no real emotion or attachment. No relationship followed.
Several months later a girl who I had known throughout grammar school that was a year younger than me from my sister's class and I met up in the church's teen club. We ended up spending some time doing projects together on the church grounds. Shortly after this Mary invited me over to her house and down in their basement / family room, I received the first passionate kiss of my life. We started dating and went to a couple high school dances and such together. The kisses remained passionate, but our relationship fizzled out as teen "romances" tend to do. We do correspond on Facebook from time to time. She lives out of state and works in the medical field.
Allow me to relate one more kiss story. It occurred when I was 23. I had been dating Therese for a couple months and one night the kisses changed dramatically. Suddenly it was the passion of Mary's with the close feeling of someone I cared for. But the part that was "interesting" was that as we kissed goodnight, she curled her leg up, the "foot pop" of all those 60s romantic comedies with Doris Day or another one of actresses of that time frame. We both laughed about it afterwards as it was spontaneous, but it never just happened again. Our relationship grew deeper, then unexplainably she broke-up with me the day after Christmas with the old "it's not you it's me" thing.
Thanks again for the "Musings" and allowing me to reminisce on some special and distance memories. Your writing is quite special, it opens up the heart and the soul to times and people of our past.
The overnight camp I went to for a couple weeks the summers when I was 13 and 14 was sort of bizarre. I don't know quite how to describe it other than to say that when years later I learned it was the same camp the Unabomber had gone to when he was a teen, it made sense.
My first kiss didn't happen until the fall after the second of those summers, a couple months into high school. I didn't know her very well, but somehow we ended up "dating." She and some friends I didn't know came over to my friend's house, and the two of us went for a walk around the block. Eventually we stopped, and then we were kissing, and I remember feeling enveloped in her, and overwhelmed by it all, by the smell of her perfume, the feeling of her body pressed against mine and of her tongue in my mouth. We went back to my friend's, she and her friends left not long after, and I fell asleep on my friend's couch, completely exhausted by that kiss.
I think it was another couple weeks before we "officially" broke up, but that one hour or so that one night was the only time we actually hung out. Notably, not long ago, more than 25 years after that kiss, we became Facebook friends, and she seems like an awesome person, someone I can be proud to have had my first kiss with, even if I was very much not emotionally or physically ready for it when it happened.
I hated camp; not a water baby, uncomfortable on boats... Many of the kids were American and looked down on us. Can't remember my first kiss. A well-turned memoir, Ruth.
My experience with overnight camp was more like the plot of a Stephen King novel, but boy, can I relate to your story. You have a great touch for telling these stories.
Thank you, Ruth, for reminding me of some precious memories. I never went away to camps, but hanging in the neighborhood on the south side of Chicago presented me with many opportunities for a "first kiss". Her name was Cindy and I knew her "from around". I think she was probably more interested in me, than I her. We spent a few nights in groups talking about all sorts of things and eventually kissed. It was sweet and gentle. But for me it produced no real emotion or attachment. No relationship followed.
Several months later a girl who I had known throughout grammar school that was a year younger than me from my sister's class and I met up in the church's teen club. We ended up spending some time doing projects together on the church grounds. Shortly after this Mary invited me over to her house and down in their basement / family room, I received the first passionate kiss of my life. We started dating and went to a couple high school dances and such together. The kisses remained passionate, but our relationship fizzled out as teen "romances" tend to do. We do correspond on Facebook from time to time. She lives out of state and works in the medical field.
Allow me to relate one more kiss story. It occurred when I was 23. I had been dating Therese for a couple months and one night the kisses changed dramatically. Suddenly it was the passion of Mary's with the close feeling of someone I cared for. But the part that was "interesting" was that as we kissed goodnight, she curled her leg up, the "foot pop" of all those 60s romantic comedies with Doris Day or another one of actresses of that time frame. We both laughed about it afterwards as it was spontaneous, but it never just happened again. Our relationship grew deeper, then unexplainably she broke-up with me the day after Christmas with the old "it's not you it's me" thing.
Thanks again for the "Musings" and allowing me to reminisce on some special and distance memories. Your writing is quite special, it opens up the heart and the soul to times and people of our past.
Aw! I love this one! Made me feel all the feels...sigh...
The overnight camp I went to for a couple weeks the summers when I was 13 and 14 was sort of bizarre. I don't know quite how to describe it other than to say that when years later I learned it was the same camp the Unabomber had gone to when he was a teen, it made sense.
My first kiss didn't happen until the fall after the second of those summers, a couple months into high school. I didn't know her very well, but somehow we ended up "dating." She and some friends I didn't know came over to my friend's house, and the two of us went for a walk around the block. Eventually we stopped, and then we were kissing, and I remember feeling enveloped in her, and overwhelmed by it all, by the smell of her perfume, the feeling of her body pressed against mine and of her tongue in my mouth. We went back to my friend's, she and her friends left not long after, and I fell asleep on my friend's couch, completely exhausted by that kiss.
I think it was another couple weeks before we "officially" broke up, but that one hour or so that one night was the only time we actually hung out. Notably, not long ago, more than 25 years after that kiss, we became Facebook friends, and she seems like an awesome person, someone I can be proud to have had my first kiss with, even if I was very much not emotionally or physically ready for it when it happened.
This is such a beautiful, powerful, evocative piece. Thanks so much for writing it & sharing it with the rest of us!
I hated camp; not a water baby, uncomfortable on boats... Many of the kids were American and looked down on us. Can't remember my first kiss. A well-turned memoir, Ruth.
Awww. you paint a lovely picture with this story.. How he made you feel is the big takeaway for me.. so sweet..
My experience with overnight camp was more like the plot of a Stephen King novel, but boy, can I relate to your story. You have a great touch for telling these stories.