THANKS FOR THE MEMORIES!!!

Yesterday’s post had to do with hugs and skin to skin contact. It made me think about my physical relationship with John. And, in some previous post, I believe I intimated I would write about my sex life with him. This may be that post. John and I were both extremely fortunate that we both liked making love, having sex A LOT!!! In fact, you’ve undoubtedly read about our instant attraction to each other. That’s something that never went completely away throughout our entire relationship.

I remember as if it were yesterday (and I wish it was), kissing and kissing and kissing and wanting to get as close as I possibly could to John. I don’t think I am the least bit mistaken, but I believe he felt exactly the same way.

Neither one of us had a vast amount of experience in the making love department. Our first time together was two weeks to the day after we met. (I was such a slut, but just for John.) It was at his house, in his bed because I lived with my parents. His mom wasn’t home. Our making love didn’t start out with shooting stars, the earth shaking, or any of those descriptions you read about in those romance novels. It was good, but it definitely wasn’t perfect. I believe the first time is never that way. I think you have to get to know each other and each other’s bodies for it to even begin approaching perfect, i.e.,  simultaneous orgasms and the aftermath of those.

The getting to know is really fun and takes a lot of practice…practice in which we were happy and eager to engage. We practiced on blankets in a number of Seattle’s public parks. I remember one night at Lincoln Park we crawled beneath a tree with branches down to the ground that was adjacent the pathway. It was all we could do to be silent and not laugh uproariously when people went by…especially after our practice was complete. We practiced at John’s house when his mother was gone. We practiced in his car…Lord, but we were lithe and limber back in those days. We practiced at my house on the rare occasions the entire family went off somewhere. Now and then, John even sprung for a night in a motel…that was the best because we could wake up together!!!

I know there are undoubtedly women in the world who have never had an orgasm. I know there are women in the world who do not like sex. I am so incredibly thankful I am not one of them. I also feel very sorry these women are missing out on the very best a relationship has to offer when it comes to physical activity (in my opinion). And, yes, there are other best parts…love, comfort, companionship…but for John and I, it was our wonderful physical relationship that carried us through hard times in our marriage.

We never had a copy of One Thousand and One Arabian Nights or the Kama Sutra, but were I to obtain a copy of one or the other or both, I’m sure there wouldn’t be many examples in there of what we didn’t try. Nothing was out of bounds in our efforts to please each other. And, the best of times was after making love, after orgasming together, when we’d lay there and giggle and laugh for no reason other than we felt so incredible. Just typing that brought a smile to my face…those times were amazing and fortunately for the two of us frequent.

Of course, there were instances when I wasn’t exactly eager but participated anyway, just for the closeness. It wasn’t perfect with synchronized orgasms every single time we made love, but it was an important part of our lives. I miss it a lot.

Even before John died, our sex life had diminished. Illness and medications have an effect on the human body and so it was with us. There was also the fact our relationship wasn’t the best it could have been, and that had an effect as well. Feeling as I do now, I seriously wish I could go back for a do-over. Damn the medication effects, we could still have great sex, maybe not the way we had 10 or 20 years before, but it was satisfying. I’d say yes and be the aggressor a lot more often than I did during those years. I think that old saying about not missing something until it’s gone is very true.

When I think about making love, our sex life today, I’m of two minds. I am so very thankful I had this wonderful man who knew my body so well, and was so eager to please, he could bring me to orgasm almost every single time. It was the absolute best and I’m grateful for all those wonderful memories, especially the laughter and closeness, of how we were together. I will always have those to succor me.

The comfort from those memories is double-edged however. They make me feel good, but they also make me feel bad because I miss John, I miss making love, the closeness, lying beside him after, going to sleep in his arms. I wonder sometimes if our sexual relationship had been more ho-hum, more of a duty on my part, more of a wham-bam, thank you mam on his part if I’d be feeling this way today.

But it wasn’t and I do miss John, his smile, laughter, kisses, his hands on my body, his voice in my ear, my hands on him, the completeness of our relationship in our bed together. I am extraordinarily thankful our attraction and desire for each other lasted for so many decades.

Typing that last paragraph, the words to that old Bob Hope song, leaped into my head…”Thanks For the Memories.”  I do indeed thank John for creating so many wonderful memories with me, and not just about making love, but memories from our entire lives. I am forever exceedingly grateful for each and every one.