My friend BADDEST MOTHER EVER (I would tag her here if I were smarter) wrote about her first kiss today. Like with everything she writes it was brilliantly crafted so that a few words into it I was back to the moment of my first kiss. I felt the butterflies, the tingle of anticipation and the shiver of pleasure when the simple touching of lips was over.
My first kiss memory and that lovely story sparked a moment of panic.
Have I had my last kiss?
It was a constant complaint that I am not/was not affectionate. And I am not. Affection requires a certain amount of trust and confidence. I had one but didn’t have the other. Now I’ll have neither. I struggled with spontaneous kisses or even impromptu hugs. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to…it was just that I, well, I couldn’t. I would think about it. I would imagine myself leaning in and surprising him with a ‘this is why you love me’ kiss but inevitably something would happen and I would lose my confidence and the moment would pass.
If I knew then what I know now would I have kissed more? Hugged more? Would it have mattered?
I’ve often heard, “I’ll never get to hug him again” or “I wish I would have known that I wasn’t going to see her again-I would have kissed her a little longer or told her I loved her. “ Usually these are associated with a sudden death. I don’t admit to knowing that agony. I am not comparing mine to that. BUT…there are similarities. In this sudden, swift and unexpected ‘change’ (for lack of a better description) I didn’t get to say goodbye, farewell or to linger over a hug. I didn’t know when I left for work that morning that there would never be another chance-another moment. I left for work on a normal Tuesday with no idea that by Tuesday afternoon everything that I thought of as normal, everything I knew would be lost.
I didn’t know I’d already had my last kiss.
It’s the quiet moment that happens just as the kiss is about to occur that I think I will miss the most. That single soft second where his lips first gently touch hers. Or the moment before you get kissed- I’ll miss that too. I’ll miss knowing I have someone to kiss, to hug or to hold my hand. I can fix a drain, juggle schedules and change light bulbs but I can’t replace that intimacy. The warmth. The comforting presence. That ‘my feet are freezing’ snuggle on a winter night. I wasn’t good at affection in the straightforward sense but there were a million tiny little things that felt affectionate to me. Burrowing into the couch with my feet on his lap—no, it wasn’t a kiss, but to me, it was affectionate. It was comforting and comfortable. It was a connection. And isn’t that what affection is?
There is a touch of irony that my last kiss was at my favorite place—The BEACH, at a wedding weekend where I was super proud to be the Misses of someone creating some beautiful memories for a bride and groom. That getaway weekend was one of those snap shots in time that everything felt good and right and you were happy. Deep down happy and content. That’s what the last weekend was to me. I am trying to hold onto that. At first I was angry that my special weekend memory would be forever tainted but slowly I realized that to be angry about it ruined all that the moment was and the moment was about more then he and I…it was also about family and children and relaxing. I can’t let the fact that we shouldn’t have been there or that we were there under false pretenses cloud the memories. I just need to focus on different memories from that weekend. I don’t need to dwell on not knowing that was my last kiss or that last time I had someone’s hand on my leg as we whizzed down the road.
Have I had my last kiss?
I am not being melodramatic here. At 43 with 3 last names I am not exactly a “prize”. I am acutely aware that my time with my babies is slipping away. I am okay focusing my affection-of which I have plenty-on them. They’ve never wanted for hugs and kisses. With them I trust my heart and am confident in loving them. So that’s what I’ll do-I’ll live those that love me back. And if I’ve had my last kiss…well….than I’ve had my last kiss.