karenulijohn

While I was on my morning walk today, the question of how I move forward kept crowding into my thoughts. Thinking about the future is very painful and bleak.  It occurred to me that perhaps the best way forward is to recapture memories of the past.  Right now, the only Harvey I remember vividly is the “sick” Harvey.  I want to remember him as healthy and strong.  I’m thankful that he did not lose his wonderful sense of humor which certainly carried us through some of the more difficult days of his illness.

Looking back 53 years, we met in February of 1965 at the United States Navy Chapel in London, England.  He was 29, having just had a birthday, and I was 17, anxiously awaiting my 18th birthday in April.  He approached me at the coffee hour after the service and asked me if I would like to join him for “dinner and a natter.”  I had no idea what a “natter” was, but said yes anyway.  My parents were somewhat concerned, but I suggested that once he knew how old I was, he would no longer have an interest.  Well, the subject of my age never came up (until much later) and I certainly didn’t volunteer because I really liked him.

I lived with my parents in a lovely flat in Grosvenor Square.  There were two main entrances and a concierge/doorman stationed at both.  Somehow or another, Harvey missed the opulent main entrances and came up through the back tradesman entrance and arrived at the back door of the flat which was hardly ever used.  Chains and bolts had to be undone before the door could be opened, and there he stood in his grey suit and crisp white shirt, holding a pineapple.

He took me to a little Swiss restaurant on Ebury Street called The Edelweiss where we had cheese fondue.  The restaurant itself was modeled after a restaurant in Geneva, with pine panelling and pine tables.  We sat in a booth and got down to the business of getting to know each other.  He was working for a paper tape company out of Seattle, WA. running the newly formed European operation.  He was a great conversationalist, and we seemed to have a lot to talk about for several hours.  During that time I noticed his hands.  He had beautiful hands, well formed, long fingers, but strong.  The other thing I noticed was his watch.  It was quite large and I ended up referring to it as the “hubcap.”

On our second date, which occurred in the following week, he managed to find his way through the main entrance of the block of flats, but, when he arrived at our door, he had two tulips with roots and dirt attached that he had picked out of the flower bed in the courtyard.  That evening we went to The George Coaching Inn in Southwark.  Again, we sat for hours talking and laughing and enjoying each other’s company.  I started to worry a little though (as I am wont to do on occasion) because he had not tried to kiss me.  I wanted him to kiss me!