It has been 23 years now. I was 11 when I meet my Kenny - a neighbor friend of my cousins. We started dating when I was 14. He taught me about love, kisses and dreams for a lifelong love. Kenny asked my mom if we could marry at 16, but mom said no - Kenny didn't give up. He moved to Texas and left me with my family while he went to start to carve our lives out. At 17 mom allowed me to go to Texas to be with him. We had our own place and our days were filled with laughter and happiness. Our nights snuggled down as we talked and planned out our lives. Kenny would read to me from western books until I fell asleep. I got a sneaky feeling that I could be pregnate and talked to Kenny. When we found out for sure I returned home to Ill. to Fort Sheridan, to receive medical care as I was an army dependent. Mom would let us marry now, but I was 17 and silly - I didn't want to get married with a big belly, and decided we had our whole lives and we would just wait till the baby came. In my 7th month Kenny had worked for the company long enough to have insurence and decided he was coming to get me and take me to Texas for the birth of our baby. It was all to be a surprise to me that he was even coming. It was raining Oct 2, 1986 and Kenny was a construction worker. The rain delayed finishing the job earlier, so Kenny went back to finish the job so he could leave that night as he had planned to come get me. The scafold was wet and Kenny slipped, he fell 4 stories. He fought to live for 2 1/2 hours. I received the call about 4:30 that afternoon that my Kenny was dead. The days and months passed and I held on to give life to my Kenny again. My sons birth was a blessing and a heartache. I would set for hours, lay awake at nights going back to the first time I meet him. Tring to replay every moment, every kiss, every fight. I wanted to stay in the world were my Kenny was. Afraid time would rob me of the memories- so everyday I would relive those moments I had. Kiss his baby and wonder why???? My son Kenny is now 23 with a son of his own. I try to talk to my son about his dad but he acts cold about it. I guess I can't be surprised after all he never knew him. To him it is just an old tattered story from long ago, pages in a book that has long been told. It is my reality not his. To him he was a boy without his dad, a man with out a dad. I still find myself wondering what our lives would be like. Would we have divorced like so many do?? Would we have had more children and lived the life of fairytale love that last forever? I still miss him and all the love we never got the time to give. It has been a lifetime without him, and the rest of my life to go.