When is a Kiss More Than a Kiss?
My First, Last, and Maybe Next Kiss
Estimated reading time: 2 minutes, 31 seconds
Half a century ago, I attended a party in the Inwood area of Manhattan. Jan had invited me to the party through a mutual friend since I had met her a year earlier but had only just heard back from her. Upon my arrival, she purposely spilled wine on my head. We laughed and began a private conversation as if a bubble of silence surrounded us, and we couldn’t hear the other partygoers’ noise. When my friend Mark told me that he and my Williamsburg friends were leaving, I knew I had to make a decision.
I felt uncertain. I wanted to kiss Jan to express my feelings, but I wasn’t sure if she would be receptive to it. If I didn’t make a move, she might think of me as just a friend, and I might not get another chance. “I’ll meet you at the subway in a minute,” I said half-heartedly to Mark. I stood up from my chair and leaned towards Jan. Kissing her forehead would be a safe option. However, I kissed the top of her head instead. She smiled and lifted her head, so I kissed her forehead. She looked up at me and smiled. We shared our first kiss, and it was the sweetest kiss in the universe.
Thirty months ago, Jan had been home for close to a month for hospice care. On May 3, I woke up and went downstairs for breakfast. I walked to the hospital bed and leaned over to kiss her forehead. As I approached her lips, I said, “I love you!” Her voice was weak, but she responded clearly and without reservation, “I love you too!” We kissed. It was another sweet kiss, and I had no idea at that moment that it would be our last kiss.
Moving forward as a widow, living alone seemed unimaginable. But I took it one day at a time and made progress. Over time, I found that grief was gradually fading away. Although my love for my wife remains, I realized that people die, not love. The thought of kissing someone new never crossed my mind after her, but I have found joy in loving someone again. The more I longed to kiss her, the less probable it seemed. Still, I know it will happen if it is meant to be. Recently, on the fiftieth anniversary of my first kiss, I was reminded that some kisses hold more significance than just a simple peck. The prospect of kissing the woman I love fills me with joy and hope.
The Jan Lilien Education Fund sponsors ongoing sustainability and environmental awareness programs. Gifts made this month; I will match dollar-for-dollar. All donations are tax-deductible.
I receive a commission when you buy a book or product using a link on this page. Thank you for supporting Sharing Jan’s Love blog.
Jan’s Sweet Kisses
My First, Last, and Maybe Next Kiss
Estimated reading time: 2 minutes, 31 seconds
