Best Friends, a Tropical Island, and Little Green Pillows

It’s May 29^th.  To some, it may be a birthday; to others, it signifies Memorial Day, and still others, it means nothing – just another day.  To me, it is Little Green Pillow Day.  It will always be Little Green Pillow Day.  Today is the eleventh anniversary of that very special day. 

I wrote this last year on Little Green Pillow Day, what would have been our tenth anniversary:

Little Green Pillows…

We met twelve years ago, halfway around the world from our respective homes and families. Like many Sailors, we bonded quickly over ice cold Cokes, souvlakis, and our outgoing natures. We became the best of friends – you were my person, the one I could tell anything to, the one I could argue with, the one I could trust with my secrets. You taught me how to dive and how to use 4WD to climb hills in my Jeep, although it was a lot more fun in your Jeep since I didn’t owe any money on it! In short, you taught me how to play again, and not take life so seriously. Even when a rare illness sidelined you for a couple of weeks in Chania General Hospital, you kept your sense of humor, although I knew you were scared. We leaned on each other for guidance and advice when our respective relationships began to crumble before our very eyes, and always, we found humor and laughed.

We kept in touch after we returned to the States – me to Georgia and you to Virginia, and I heard the sadness and frustration in your voice about not getting hired right away. We listened to each other’s tales of the crazy people we dated. I chewed you out about more than one of the women you dated following your divorce – someone needed to because you were floundering in the dating pool. I wasn’t much better, and I deserved the chewing out about the one I dated for a couple of months. You were the first one who said, “I love you”, at the end of one of our many phone conversations, and I didn’t think anything of it. Occasionally, you would say that, but I never gave it a second though because I knew you were my best friend.

Then, ten years ago, something changed… I took you on a dive trip to the Caymans – I just wanted to see my bestie smile again. I wanted you to have joy in your life again because I knew how difficult that post-retirement year had been for you. You weren’t my type at all, and the thought of dating you had never crossed my mind, but I guess fate had other plans…

Ten years ago today, we dove… I lost a fin, and you saved it from the deep for me. When we came off the boat that afternoon, I sat at a picnic table on the sand doing Algebra and you brought me a Coke. While you were downloading pictures off of your camera, I rubbed your neck, and for a fleeting moment, I wanted to bend down and kiss the top of your head – you never knew that because I never told you; I wish I had. On the way to dinner, you put your hands on my waist to “goose” me in the most natural way. And then, the little green pillow changed everything…

You threatened to hit me with it if I chattered in my sleep again, as I had the night before, but you dropped it on the floor – I know you did it on purpose, hoping that I would do exactly as I did and grab it. What ensued was a tickling match in the dark as you tried to retrieve that little green pillow that had sat so innocently on the hotel bed. Suddenly, the laughter stopped, and you kissed me – it was then that I knew that you were the one I was meant to spend my life with; I was home. I remember you telling me that you were afraid of falling even more in love with me than you were and losing me in the end.

In the end, I am the one who has lost – I have lost the love of my life, my best friend, my person. I miss you every single day. I am scared of forgetting – the sound of your voice, the way you walked, the feel of your arms around me. Every night, I sleep with the little green pillow I gave you for our first Christmas together. That little green pillow that you kept on your couch, that you napped on, that smells like you – I can’t bring myself to wash it even though it needs it because it’s all I have left, but your smell is fading…

Ten years was never enough time, but I will always have the little green pillow to remind me that I had the best ten years of my life with you. Happy Little Green Pillow Day in Heaven, my love… please keep sending me signs, and please know how deeply I love you…