❤LOVE❤

My first love was an Italian girl who lived not far from my grandparents in a rural farming town outside of Buffalo.We were both six years old. Her family was loaded and she didn't just have a swing set - she had an incredible carousel pony swing set and you sat on them while you were swinging. A jungle gym back before anybody else had them. A little play-house. Talk about fun!

It was an arranged marriage. Our parents would get together to grill food and sit in the garage with a massive garage sized screen door to keep the mosquitoes out, as was the custom in Buffalo at that time. They'd play their Kingston Trio and Sock Hop stuff and get hammered while we kids would find ways to entertain ourselves. They said we were boyfriend and girlfriend, joked around about the cuteness of it, and we were six. If they said we were a couple, then that's what we were.

Early on her old man pulled me aside and gravely told me that it was my duty to protect Tammy from everything. I couldn't let anyone hurt her. He made me swear to it and I was deeply alarmed. This was my first taste of responsibility and I was determined to guard that little girl with my life, but I knew that I was barely taller than a grownup's thigh and not likely to do much if one of them malfunctioned. I looked over at the part of his garage that had tools and saw a carpenter's claw hammer about as long as my little arm. I remember a feeling of grim resignation when I picked it up, wondering how I'd handle a rampaging adult. I shouldered it like a rifle and suggested to Tammy that we go outside. Her Mom saw us and asked me what I was doing with the hammer. I explained that I was using it to protect Tammy and Tammy's father laughed and laughed, and told me what a fine young man I was. That was all swell and good, but I was still worrying about the sort of shit that could go wrong out there. Naturally, Tammy asked me what the deal was with the hammer and I told her about the onus laid on me by her father and my total unpreparedness for all of it. There were Bad Guys, and drunk, crazy guys. And dogs. A big dog would be trouble. She brought up bears and my eyes widened. Pfft - nothing much to do there except get eaten, but I didn't think we had to worry about them. There are bears, sure, but the grownups don't carry guns, so bears probably weren't much of a problem. Regardless, this was crazy, letting us run around out here where anything could pick us off! We were just kids! But we also knew it was what it was and we had to find a way to deal with the threats while we played.

We only saw each other on weekends, and on the last one we were playing like usual when all of a sudden my Mom, obviously pissed off, grabbed me and threw me in the car where Dad was already waiting. They were arguing nonstop and one side of Dad's face was puffy and red. By the time we got home Dad's eye was becoming yellow and purple. Later that week I asked Mom if we were going over to Tammy's on Saturday and I was told that we were never going over there again. Years later Mom explained that Dad had gotten a bit too fresh with Tammy's Mom and her Dad blacked his eye.

Only six, yet star crossed lovers!

Let's hear those love songs. The special songs that were "our" songs. Songs that remind you of a pet, or a grandmother, or anything else you loved.