I Know How A Butterfly Feels. Ann Palmer

As I look back over my life of love and romance, I always lived in a fairytale dream.

      With Ron’s infrequent letter writing and my senior year of high school, the romance seemed to dwindle away for him, not for me. My heart still torched for him. He did come up for my Senior Prom. I was so proud of my handsome Prince. By the fall, I was a freshman in college and quite popular. This was also a military college with boys outnumbering girls five to one. Still, in my heart, I carried my fantasy romance for my Prince Charming until, in a telephone conversation; he told me he was dating someone else and the distance made it impossible for us to continue. I was broken hearted again. If I had made a different decision to stay in there and fight for my love, my life might have been totally different, alas, fate has a plan and we must follow it, even if we have no idea what it is.

      In my second year of college, I began dating a football player who was in one of my art classes. He pursued me relentlessly. Every where I was, he was there and a bit of pest. He was a nice guy with a car. Few guys had cars so this was a reason to date him. It began with him offering his car to me to drive to a football game and take my friends. Before long, he offered his football jacket for me to wear. Wearing a guy’s football jacket was a really big deal at the time. That seemed to discourage others from dating me. I hadn’t intended to “go steady” with him – it seemed to be taken for granted. Months passed; there was no one else to date. The school year ended. My parents couldn’t afford for me to continue in college so I got a job and shared an apartment with two friends. Dating Nathan was just a habit. We kissed, even though I was not fond of kissing him. We got into some “necking” or “petting” and he got carried away. Fully clothed including a winter coat, he got overly excited and six weeks later I found I was pregnant.

      In that era, abortions were illegal and unthinkable. He investigated the possibility and I was livid at the suggestion, thinking it meant sure death for me. I don’t wish to continue down that avenue of my life’s adventures, as I want to continue with my connection with Ron.

      Somehow Ron and I reconnected again when I lived in Hollywood. It may have been about fifteen years later. By then he was married with four kids in school and I was ensconced in my film and TV career, feeling destined to marry a famous star, producer, director or writer. I was not interested in any sort of romance with a “married man” or a boy “from back home.”

      By the late 1990s, I had been deeply involved in the Internet dating for several years. I probably met and dated over 100 men via the Internet. I assumed some where in the world there WAS a right man for me. I sometimes wondered what had happened in Ron’s life. By now, all his kids were grown. Was he still alive? Still married? What kind of life had he led? With the unlimited research offered by the Internet, I searched for his name and address any number of times but never found it until one day, at the beginning of 2001, I found his name and address - still in Houston. I did not want to create a problem for him if he was married. While living in Palm Springs, I wrote a friendly, very long letter telling him about my life and asking about his life and family, not knowing if he would ever read it.

      (Written February 18, 2001)

      Dear Ron –

      I am assuming that you have not totally forgotten TMC and me. I don’t know if it is “old age” that brings back memories of our “first love” or why you have been on my mind for the past couple of years, wondering what has happened to you and your family. As I recall you had four children so you must be a grandpa, too.

      Through old High School (Ft. Worth) friends, I was informed that they were having a High School Reunion – so many years since I graduated from High School and College – hard to believe! Where did my life go! I have moved around so much, little remains of old mementoes; however I still had an old photo album. While removing photos of high school and college fun days to copy and send to the Reunion, I also got hung up on photos of you and the memories therein. The photos were of a Senior dance, a few photos you send from Houston and that very emotional day for me when Paul A. took us to the train station in Dallas for your return trip to Houston when your mother pulled you out of TMC. I don’t recall if it was money or because she didn’t like our romance.

      Is she still living? Both my parents have been dead for many years. I don’t know if you know a thing about me but my only child (daughter) VANISHED in the early ‘70ies never to be seen again, presumed murdered. An every lasting ache in my heart because I was not with one of them when they made their transition out of physical bodies. After that, all “family” relations ceased with my brother-in-law cheating me out of any inheritance from my parents. It gave me a sense of having no birthright plus my birth certificate has no name on it, therefore, it is an invalid I.D. My sisters signed a document before my first trip to Europe so that I got a passport and have kept that current for legal I.D. For over 20 years I’ve had no contact with them. My mother died in the early ‘90s and I was there for her funeral but we had no verbal contact. My brother refused to allow me to stay in my mother’s home so while there I had to drive to Edgewood to stay with an aunt, adding fuel to the fire of separation. I heard he now has Alzheimer’s, perfect manifestation for NOT wanting to remember his cruelty and the awful things they did to my mother.

      That is only one aspect to my “walking alone” – ironic that for my 1^st wedding I used the song “When you walk through a storm hold your head up high – etc. – You’ll never walk alone” – Well, I HAVE! And what a struggle it has been!

      I don’t know that you are even curious or care to know about my life but if not, you can just throw away the letter. I seem to recall that in the ‘60ies you were in L.A. and we had lunch or dinner, so you may recall some of my potpourri life! Marriage to Debbie’s father was forced because of pregnancy – he was a rebound date due to your telling me we couldn’t see each other and you had a girlfriend, whom I assume is the one you married. Number two husband was an actor/car salesman who couldn’t decide if he wanted me, a man or another woman. Number three was an older man, after Debbie disappeared, who patted me on the head with “I will take care of you, little girl” – HA!! He moved me to Florida where I had no friends or life other than him and he was a terrible alcoholic plus three pack-a-day smoker. We separated in the late ‘70ies, I returned to CA, he died in the early ‘90ies with liver cancer, no wonder!