The Treasure Hunt

Sunday February 3, 2013 6:02 am & 5:55 pm

I have been reading a sad story about a young girl in love and what her father put her through, and I was reminded of something... which I will write about soon. First thigh, (sic) I have a question for anyone to answer. Why would someone hurt a person they are supposed to love, only because they can't hurt the person they would really like to harm?

My three word title, in Italian, was scratched into a window pane by a lonely teen-aged girl (Lady Alice) who had been banished to her bedroom and virtually made a prisoner in her own home by her father, Lord Penrhyn. Do you know what her 'crime' was... she had fallen in love with the gardener, a man who was well beneath her family's social standing.

The name of the gardener is not known at this time, although after more than 100 years there are people who are once again searching old records and diaries to try and find out who he was? In a sense it might be rather unimportant to know about him: I think it's enough to know about her. At least it would seem from her life that the love she carried for this man never ended? As a teenager she fell in love and we know that her love was unrequited... and when she died at the age of seventy-six years she had never married!

Love, seems to me to be a very odd thing. You can't just want it and make it happen, you can't wish for it and make it appear, and neither can you really even control it. Yet, when it happens you will certainly know it, and true love will never die: even if that means there is no happy ending like what is usually written about in fairy-tales.

I remember the first girl I ever loved, she wasn't the first girl I knew or was with... but how I felt about her was so different then how I had ever felt about anyone else. Naturally, as in all fairy-tales this lovely lass had an exceedingly wicked stepmother! (Well, in the interest of being truthful I can't let that last statement stand. Her mother wasn't a stepmother. lol)

Apparently, within her own home the more it was known how she felt about me the more trouble she got in. From a free spirited girl who was involved in everything, she became a virtual prisoner in her own bedroom and every privilege she had grown accustomed to was one-by-one taken from her. (Just imagine what an irate, and evil step-mom might do to a princess :) and you get the picture.

Toward the end were it not for her older sister feeling sorry for us and smuggling the phone to her we might never have talked. (She also had a greedy younger brother and I was able to pay him off to let me know when her parents were away.) Her mother once said to me that I was no good and no good for her daughter. Honestly, I didn't take exception to the first part of her statement... only the last part wasn't true. They came from a lot of money, apparently old money. (Seriously, if a caste system were in place in America like what they have in India her family might have been “varnas” and my own might have been some of the “untouchables.” So, I was well aware that there was a huge difference... but money isn't everything.)

Honestly, were it not for one particular phone call I made when her sister smuggled the phone to her, I am not sure what might have happened with us? But, that call sort of started the beginning of the end. When the phone was being handed to her I heard her sister say the name of someone else, like that was the person who was calling? All it took was a single innocuous word being spoken in a soft voice to completely break my heart... and all that she said was, “Hello.”

But, in that word there was so much sadness in her voice and for the first time I understood the toll all of this was taking on her, even though she had never let on to me. When she heard my voice instantly her own voice changed, and again there was happiness in it. Once more she was the girl I knew and cared so much about.

I'm not sure how much time passed after we hung up before I knew what I was going to do. I wasn't in a position to take her away, she was used to so very much and there was no way I could have taken care of her like she was provided for at home. I also knew if I tried to explain any of this to her she would have said that it didn't matter... so, I couldn't just tell her the truth. So, the next time we talked I lied to her and I made her believe there was someone else. (After it was over I swore that I would never again lie to anyone I loved so much... no matter what it cost me!)

I suppose one of the things that bothers me the most is why do certain people, who aren't living happy lives themselves... always imagine that they know what is best for everyone else? I mean, within just a very few years of the mother punishing her daughter in order to get to me her own marriage ended, and ended badly. I take no delight in knowing that fact: probably because I know how I have often felt, and I wouldn't wish unhappiness on anyone.

So, regardless how each has gone... I have known three loves in my lifetime and for that I know I need to be grateful. I am certain there are many people who have never known true love, nor (perhaps) have they ever known what it feels like to have been loved by another? I have known both, and for that I am thankful.

I am going to post a picture of the Lady, her message, and the father. I thought for my own amusement I might have the picture of the father enlarged at Office Depot so I could tape it onto the front of my dartboard. In that way, whenever I become upset at the thought of meddlers... I would let his face be representative of everyone else I have ever known who has stood in the way of others, and (perhaps) for no better reason than they felt they knew what was best for everyone else? However, I remembered that I gave my dartboard away when I was giving a lot of other things away a couple of years ago. So, I guess, (at least for now) his image is safe from the sharp point of my darts :)

You know what's sort of funny? This picture of the girl I am posting is not one who (at least physically) I would be attracted to. But, I would be willing to bet my very life against anything else, that if you could ask the gardener who loved her to put into words how beautiful she was that words would completely fail him. That's one of the mysteries and great things about true love, the object of our devotion is no longer seen only with our eyes... but rather they are now seen by our heart. 

There is an axiom (truism) that I personally know to be false. Although it is probably believed to be true by almost everyone. The common saying I am speaking of is this, "Time heals all wounds." If I would surpass the longest known life of any man who has ever been recorded, that of Methuselah... I would have still known a lost love from which I know that I would never heal. I heard a song long ago that had a line in it which spoke of a wound from being in love that never heals... and that was when a love has, 'cut you to your soul.' (I know that feeling well.)

Rose Kennedy famously said, "It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wound remains. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone." To that I could only add, "Ditto."

Now... the Lady:

 her message:

And, the no-good &%^$()*#@*&%^$#@&% father!!! Sorry, I know this is supposed to be a family blog and that is some pretty strong symbols I used there :) 

Whatever video I record today I will upload this evening after I get home from work.

I am home :) ... it has been one of those days, if you know what I mean? I have a couple of tests I have to do for school before midnight tonight and in between spending some time doing that I will probably try to watch some of the game, at least I would like to catch some of the commercials? Usually they are pretty funny. If I had to pick a winner for tonight... I would say the Forty-niners will fall behind early, but they will come back and win the game. That's my guess anyway :)