Sparks of Love

Darron and I were gifted with over a week to ourselves.  Thanks to generous friends and relatives who provided housing (see: ) and child care.

One of the highlights was driving up to the Chilhowee mountains, where the sparks of love were flying 20 years ago.  Allow me to reminisce a bit.

It was spring break.  Darron and I had been on a few dates together.  Enough to know that there was …..interest.  I returned to college early, to work.  Darron, to write a paper.  I was cancelled due to low patient census.  I knew Darron was in his dorm room, writing a paper (what a waste of time on a beautiful day).  I called him to see if he wanted to go to the mountains with me.  Do you think he said, “No, I have to write a paper”? 

No way.


We both remember the day clearly.  Dementia has not clouded these minds yet.  A walk to the falls.  Lots of sharing.  Sitting against the stone wall and talking and singing.  We had a million things in common. 

That night, Darron asked me if I would be his girl friend.  That is another (funny) story.


So there we were.  20 years later.  Same viewSame rock wallDifferent people.

4 kids. A million memories.  The majority of them good,  few of them worth forgetting.   The sparks have simmered down to a warm glow with intermittent bursts of wind that send off occasional sparks.  But we like warm glows and know it is healthy love.  Realistically we now know that we only have about 250 things in common, not a million and if the mood is bad one can almost get tricked into thinking we have nothing in common.  But that is silly.  And stepping back for a week and stepping back to where it all began and stepping back and talking and sharing made sparks of love fly again.





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