My companion and best friend, Donnie Townsend and I used to go out in the country a lot. We called it picture taking. Donnie did the driving and I took the pictures all of the time, however this time it was different. Donnie did the driving but it started raining. It became a down pour and he couldn’t even see to drive so we pulled over off of the side of the road. The sign said we were in a little Town called Mexico, Indiana.
We noticed that there was a cross with a glow around it. I started to take pictures of the cross but it wasn’t working out too good, the angle was to hard to get a good picture of it. I gave the camera to Donnie and asked him to take the pictures and he did. We were both getting real excited about getting the photos of the cross with the glow surrounding it. I did manage to get a couple of pictures of the church before the rain got too bad. Donnie took almost all of the photos of the cross and he got a couple of the church too. He was showing me pictures that he was taking and I was jumping up and down while sitting in the Malibu acting like a nine year old kid. The more excited I got the more enthused he got about the photos he was taking. It stopped raining and we could see the little Chapel with the cross that glowed. It was lighting behind the cross but we thought it was wonderful. It was a plain wooden cross like Jesus was sacrificed on to save us because all of us are sinners whether you admit to it or not. That’s why we thought it was so great.
The following evening Donnie kissed me goodbye at 8pm and he was usually home by midnight or sooner. I began to worry because he never stayed out that late before. I kept looking at the clock while I was on my computer and it kept getting later and later until it was 5am. The phone rang and it wasn’t my Donnie, it was his son Donnie Joe. He told me “Dad is dead.” I said what, and he said it again. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing but I knew it was true because Donnie wouldn’t have ever let me sit at home and worry about him all night like that.
Donnie and I had only been together for three short years. We had met on a dating site and had talked on the phone eight to ten hours a day for eight months before we ever met in person. His sister drove him to check me out I guess. Anyway I had fixed them beef and home made noodles. They both ate it all so they liked my cooking. That was a good sign. Donnie and I went back to my bedroom and the sparks began to fly. It was a magical kiss and he grabbed me by the butt and pulled me close to him. He said, “You have a firm butt.” I guessed he liked that. After 10 minutes of kissing we both looked at each other and said, “We better stop this before we go to far.” And I said, “Your sister.” So we went back to the living room and she didn’t say anything. I thought, wow! This guy is really handsome and I was in love with him from that moment on. I really think all of the talking we had done we already knew each other and were falling in love but that moment of the first kiss was electric.
I only knew three years of love out of my 61 years of life. I’d have to write a novel to explain that but it’s too hard for me to go any further than this. The only thing I can say is that I kept asking God Why? I had prayed for years for God to take me first, before anyone else that I loved would die and I have aunts and uncles in their eighties. I knew Donnie was living with only one tenth of his heart functioning the three years we were together. I went with him to his Doctor appointments and he went with me to mine. Donnie never told me how sick he was the months we spent on the phone. His sister told me he had had two heart attacks and a small stroke. He had a defibulator in his chest to shock his heart and it did shock his heart three weeks before he died. He had a third heart attack in the grocery store driving a shopping cart. I still wouldn’t let myself believe that he was going to die before I did.
I didn’t eat any food for two whole months after Donnie died. I kept saying, “God take me too! I want my Donnie back, come back, please come back.” I wasn’t just saying it though, I was screaming at the top of my lungs looking up at the upstairs like maybe he would hear me upstairs, maybe he’s upstairs. I yelled like that everyday until I couldn’t yell anymore because my voice was gone. My Donnie died on June 12th at 10:30pm and he was all alone but there was one person who said the last thing Donnie said was, “I don’t want to Die.” Then he said he just laid down on the ambulance cart and took his last breath. I’ve always wanted to have been there with him to tell him how much I loved him before he died.
There’s so much more to the story but I can’t go on crying like this and trying to write. Maybe some other time I can finish the story. All I know is there will never be another Donnie. He had the biggest heart than anyone I had ever known with only one tenth of a heart functioning. He is the love of my life and I still talk to him like he’s still with me because I can’t let go of the memories we shared. I love him too much to say goodbye.