The arrogance of youth

The 'incident' I referred to in my last post as my "shame" can be put down to a few things but alcohol, lust, the feeling of rejection as I was no longer the center of her attention and hormones are but a few.
Late into the night at the party that Christmas Eve of 1970 I followed her into the bathroom where we kissed ardently and I pursued my own interests but went to far. Living with a bunch of men who have definitive ideas on how to treat women has to rub off on a young man, needless to say their ideas of how to treat a woman are bordering psychopathic. During my six years in the army I was to witness numbing cruelty by some of these soldiers towards their womenfolk.
Anyway, the upshot was that it slowly dawned on me that I was trying to take advantage of a women that was inebriated and not in full control before I stopped and apologised profusely. Well that and a stab in the foot from the pointed heels of her knee length kinky boots. Still apologising TheBigYin left the building.

I've told Beryl about our first meeting many times but she said she didn't remember. I, on the other hand, have never forgotten how close I came to becoming a sexual deviant and every time I do think of that night my six foot stature shrinks somewhat. There were no Harriet Harman's in those days or I'd be on a register somewhere.

Kismet
I was walking down the high street in Windsor when I espied a lady I'd met on the Christmas Eve of the last year (1970) and said, "Hello, do you remember me from the party a few days ago?" My ego kicked in again when she said... "No!" and walked on by. I decided there and then not to leave it like this and pursued her for a date at the then all pervasive burger chain called Wimpy's for a coffee and a chat. She relented and my life changed dramatically from then on.

Many coffees later over the intervening month or so led to me proposing marriage... I was smitten after all!

As we 'walked out' together we must have looked an odd sight, me six foot tall and her five foot two and a vision of loveliness, a stunner as we used to say back in the day. Of course I was oblivious to this disparity in our competing statures as I was 'all lurved up', still am if the truth be known. Anyway, the day I proposed she said she had a big secret to tell me.

I can't remember if I ever asked her her age while we were courting but I must have or she wouldn't have come clean. I now know that Beryl always gave her age as a good few years younger than she really was and I thought that was endearing and that all women did the same, which I'm sure they do. But back then I didn't really care what age she was, I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life. She admitted, on proposal day, that she was 32 years of age.

My first thoughts were, if I recollect correctly, was... she's gonna reject me again because she thinks I'm too young for her and I was waiting for today's equivalent of 'yer dumped' tumbling from her glossed, down turned lips.

Somehow I managed to reassure her and she gave me a Del Monti, she said yes!

I will finish for now but in following blog writings about the subject of Alzheimer's I will endeavour show how a vibrant woman of fashion, courage, stamina, fastidiousness and common sense right up until this beast took hold of her in her late sixties has turned her life on it's head if she did but know it.

To be continued...

Idle chatter

Must say hello to my sister in law by marriage Sheila [Saul] who is new to all things 'tinternet' and I know reads this blog as she phoned me up the other night with some encouragement and said so. Both her and her husband, Beryl's brother, Eric, where at our wedding.

I hope my revelations above were not to steamy Sheila.