The Light in My Heart

by Jerry Rosendorn

  Unlike my family, Diana’s family knew how to live a full life. They dined in nice restaurants, went to the theater, and invited people over to their home for dinner parties. They enjoyed their home and their friends.

  This was foreign to me, but I embraced the life they now shared with me. I remember the first time they took me to a nice restaurant; how much I enjoyed the atmosphere of fine dining. Diana’s family was opening me up to a new world and I wanted to be a part of it.

  Diana’s mother, Elizabeth, was a chain-smoker and, like Franklin Roosevelt, she held her cigarettes in a long holder. Often at dinner parties, after she’d had a few glasses of wine, she puffed slowly on her cigarettes and told the same tall tales, embellishing them further with each telling.

  Elizabeth told me how she and Sherman got married, “he was twenty-one and I was twenty.” Her advice to young people was, “If you meet the right person at a young age, get married. After all, it worked for me and Sherman.”

  Elizabeth father was a successful corporate attorney in Detroit. He didn’t like Sherman because he didn’t finish college. When she and Sherman decided to get married, they decided on a quick ceremony at the courthouse. On the way to their nuptials, they stopped at her father’s office to ask for his blessing. He kept them waiting in his reception room until after the courthouse was closed. When he finally came out of his office, he told them how ridiculous it was for them to get married at such a young age.

  As Elizabeth told me this story, tears clouded her eyes. She hated her father for trying to interfere with her happiness; she carried a grudge until the day he died. Unfortunately, in the end, she was left with a legacy of guilt wishing she’d forgiven him years ago.

  Diana had an older and less attractive sister named Jill. Making her even more unattractive was Jill’s bad habit of always “sticking” her nose into places it didn’t belong; like my relationship with Diana.

  On one of my visits with Diana, Jill mentioned she wanted Diana to go away to college and experience the world; she didn’t want her to get “stuck” in Los Angeles. It seemed like she wanted Diana to leave LA to get away from me.

  Early in my relationship with Diana, I had another bad encounter with Jill. Sherman and Elizabeth went away for the weekend leaving Jill in charge. Diana and I made plans to go to the beach for the day; telling Jill we’d be back by six o’clock. We were delayed; not returning until seven. When we got back to Diana’s house, we found Jill and her boyfriend, Bernard, in the den. We greeted them, but Jill acted cold and ignored us. I tried to make small talk, when Jill cut me off.

  “Diana, I want to speak to you alone downstairs,” she ordered. Diana followed Jill out of the room.

  I was left in the den with Bernard, an elementary school teacher who seemed very lazy. He’d come over to Diana’s house every weekend and spent most of his time in front of the television. He never seemed to do much until Jill ordered him into action. They made a great match; she was controlling and he had no backbone.

  All of a sudden, I heard Diana scream, “No, you can’t. Mom wouldn’t let you. I did nothing wrong.”

  I heard Jill yelling back at Diana, but couldn’t make out what she said; Jill usually mumbled her words.

  After a short silence, Jill came back up to the den. “Since you and

  Diana did not come home by six, she’s punished and you have to leave.”

  I didn’t argue with her. I left and drove my car down the street and then around the block ending up at the other end of the street above Diana’s house. It was dark on this part of the street; I parked where I could look down and watch Diana’s house. From this vantage point, I’d watch and wait until Diana was alone.

  This was long before the advent of cell phones, so I couldn’t call Diana and tell her what I was doing. So I waited and once Jill and Bernard left, I’d return to Diana.

  Twenty minutes later, Jill and Bernard walked out the front door, got into his car, and drove down the street toward Sunset Boulevard in the opposite direction from where I was parked. Once they were out of sight, I got out of my car and walked down to Diana’s front door. I knocked and when she opened the door, Diana jumped into my arms and cried.

  I took her downstairs telling her how I waited.

  “I wouldn’t leave you like this,” I assured her. “I waited up at the top of your street until they left. She had no right to tell me to leave.”

  “I love you so much,” she said, consumed with emotion, “I know you and I are made for each other.”

  We kissed as I wrapped my arms around her.

  I was proud of myself for not going home. Even though her parents left Jill in charge, what she did was wrong.

  These events brought Diana and me closer. It marked the beginning of our relationship at a different level.

  As my love for Diana grew, I wanted to spend the whole night with her, so we made a plan. Her parents would be away for New Year’s Eve 1970. We told our parents we were going out to dinner to celebrate the New Year and then we would drive to Pasadena to get good seats along the Rose Parade route. Instead, we went out to dinner and went back to her house where I stayed with Diana. It was an exciting evening; as we stayed up all night.

  Throughout our four years of dating, we had our ups and downs, but we never wavered from our commitment to each other. We wanted to get married; which her parents encouraged. My parents, predictably, were against it. They liked Diana, but didn’t want me getting married at such a young age. They were afraid Diana might get pregnant and I might not finish school.

  I persisted.

  The big day came in September 1971 at the Beverly Hills Hotel. I was twenty-one and Diana was twenty as we exchanged our vows and became husband and wife.

  Chapter 20

  “You were so young and still in school. Why didn’t you wait?” What was your rush?

  That question had been bothering me for years. “My best guess is: It was Diana’s family I married. They’d given me a whole different world to experience. The price was simple, marry Diana.”

  “Were you ready to be a husband?”

  “No, how could I be? Because I was fully committed to finish my undergraduate studies and go to law school, I couldn’t find much time to spend with her. Most of my time was spent in class or studying.”

  Dr. Fox nodded and made some notes on her pad. Her eyes told me she had another concern. “What about Diana? How was she going to cope with being a student, a wife, and dealing with her own stresses and strains?”

  I was constantly amazed how she anticipated the issues in my life. I smiled to acknowledge her perceptions.

  Chapter 21

  1971-1976

  I don’t remember much about the wedding ceremony or our celebration. I do remember we didn’t eat much and danced our first dance to the Bacharach song, “The Look of Love.” When it was time to cut the cake and feed each other, we were careful to put the cake in each other’s mouth. We’d been to other weddings where the bride and groom smeared the cake all over their faces; we decided to be classy.

  After our celebration, we left in Diana’s Pontiac GTO, circled the block and returned to the Beverly Hills Hotel to spend our first night as husband and wife. As we pulled into the hotel parking area, we saw two of our guests who were shocked to see us. We swore them to secrecy and ran up to our room to avoid others.

  Being our wedding night, I was filled with anxiety and emotion over the thought of making love to Diana for the first time. She was so happy she saved herself for me. About one week before our wedding, Diana, accompanied by her mother, went to see her gynecologist.

  “Dr. Greenberg,” Elizabeth blurted out in the examination room, “Her future husband is a big guy. Is Diana going to be okay?”

  Diana turned “beet” red, but the question made her think; she even asked her sister Jill for advice. Jill’s sage advice was to drink two
full glasses of wine; she wouldn’t feel a thing.

  After the examination, the doctor confirmed her virginity and Elizabeth did a little dance in the doctor’s office; Diana was quietly pleased.

  Finally, we were in the bridal suite, where Diana made a quick exit into the bathroom; while I got out of my tuxedo and donned my new blue silk pajamas.

  I waited patiently in bed; imagining her in a negligee. As I was lying in bed, on silk sheets that matched my PJ’s, I imagined Diana in my arms. I was happy and, yet, a little nervous; my body tingled with desire.

  Watching the clock as time passed, Diana hadn’t made an attempt to come out of the bathroom. It was three-thirty in the morning and I was becoming restless. Finally, she came out in a beautiful white lace negligee and my entire body became aroused. She was gorgeous as her beautiful figure was well pronounced under the sheer negligee.

  When she moved into the bed, I wasn’t sure what to do; I was struggling to control my urges until I knew she felt comfortable. As I kissed Diana, I felt her uneasiness, so I gently rubbed her shoulders, neck, and back. Hoping her tension would ease some, I told her how much I loved her, though I could still sense she was nervous. Having waited for this moment, urges and desires were beginning to consume by body; I became single-minded. After all, this was our wedding night and consummating our vows would be the perfect way to end our wedding night.

  As tears started running down Diana’s cheeks, my desires stopped abruptly. All I could think about was how to stop her from crying and get her attention back to what we needed to do.

  “Honey, am I hurting you?” I asked gently. “Can I do something for you?”

  “I’m sad, my life is moving away from my parents,” she said sobbing softly. “As a little kid, I always worried about being abandoned; tonight, I’m reliving those fears. I love you so much, but I feel the loss of my parents. Please, just hold me.”

  I was shocked; this was our wedding night. Didn’t she want to do it? I’d waited patiently throughout all the years of our courtship, respecting her wishes so she could remain a virgin; now the moment had arrived and all she wanted was a hug?

  I was totally conflicted. Should I just hold her quietly; run into the shower and cool my aching body; or tell her off letting her know my manly desires weren’t being met?

  I didn’t say a word. I just laid there shell-shocked. She then put an arm across my chest leaving me more unsettled. When I didn’t object to her request, her body began to relax; at the same time I became tense. I remained silent while we hugged, but kept thinking she could take care of my needs by moving her hand down to give me some satisfaction.

  It was a “no win” situation for me and once I resigned myself to how our evening was going to play out, I found some consolation thinking we would fly out in a few hours to our honeymoon in Hawaii. Thinking about Hawaii, my body relaxed and within a short time, I found sleep.

  The next morning, Diana called her parents asking if we could stop by for breakfast on our way to the airport.

  As we pulled up to their house, her mother came out with a look that told me she had only one question on her mind. She quickly went up to Diana and attempted to whisper, “Was it okay?”

  Diana put on her best smile, telling her mother, “Everything was wonderful.” With a strange look on my face, I wondered for whom.

  We ate breakfast; afterwards, her father drove us to the airport. Our next stop was the island of Oahu and the Kahala Hilton Hotel.

  My first view of the islands from the air was breathtaking; it took some of the edge off my bad attitude about the wedding night. Once we landed; I rented a car and we drove toward Diamond Head. Along the way, my mood improved even more as I deeply inhaled the velvet air of Hawaii. My thoughts of consummation returned and I was anxious to get to our hotel.

  Once in our room, I opened the glass door to the balcony; it looked out over a gorgeous ocean lagoon below. The view put me over the top and romance was back in my heart.

  When I turned around to show Diana the view, she was gone and the bathroom door was shut. Not wanting to be disappointed again, I waited for her on the balcony. A few minutes later, she came out in the same white negligee, moving on the king-size bed and propping herself up against the headboard using two pillows. She gave me a welcoming smile, while tapping her hand on the bed.

  “I believe we have some unfinished business.”

  All right, I thought. Things are looking up, especially for a certain part of my anatomy. I threw off my clothes, jumped onto the bed taking Diana into my arms and gave her a long kiss, then whispered into her ear, “You look very sexy, I love you.”

  She looked back at me with her loving eyes, “I will love you, forever.”

  As the afternoon light faded into early evening, we consummated our marriage with no frills and no extras. With a calm sense between us, we held each other and fell asleep. When we woke up, the sun was setting into a multi-colored display on the horizon. Though the moment seemed perfect, my mind started to wonder: Did I make a mistake? While Diana was sweet and caring, and I knew that my future was bright, was she a woman or just a little girl?

  We spent seven days traveling through Hawaii, the first three on Oahu, the remainder on the garden island of Kauai. In Kauai, we stayed at the Hanalei Plantation House. The hotel is no longer there, but in the 1970’s it was considered a great hideaway located above Hanalei Bay which was used as the nurses’ beach in the film, “South Pacific.” The hotel was located on the side of a cliff with a cable car providing transportation for the guests.

  We spent each day exploring and each night having dinner at fabulous restaurants, enjoying great shows, and discussing our future together. I felt better as we talked and shared our thoughts; even though I still questioned my decision to marry her, I was softening; hoping we could have a good life together.

  One night at the Hanalei Plantation House, while Diana and I were having dinner on the terrace overlooking the ocean, a young man our age sat at the table next to us.

  I smiled at him asking, “How are you? What brings you to Hawaii?”

  He didn’t show much emotion and responded, “I’m fine. I’m here on my honeymoon.”

  I looked a little puzzled. “Where is your bride?”

  Again, with little expression, he said, “She’s back in our room.”

  That stopped the conversation cold. Diana and I looked at each other; then put our faces into the menus.

  Within a few minutes, the young man left. Diana had a look of concern; I knew what was on her mind. Finally, she spoke, “Maybe I should go to their room and talk to her.”

  My Diana, now a veteran of honeymoons, wanted to help smooth out whatever problems this young couple was having. I laughed to myself thinking about her actions on our wedding night.

  As the seriousness of the moment ended, we both smiled and laughed. Within a few minutes, newlyweds were seated at that same table. They were a handsome couple, about five years older than us from New York. We had a good time talking to them and sharing our experiences. The conversation boosted our mood after seeing the young man sit alone at the same table.

  With the honeymoon over, it was time to return to Los Angeles and begin our married life together.

  Before we got married, we rented an inexpensive apartment in the San Fernando Valley for one hundred, twenty dollars per month. The apartment was located near the state college we both attended; I was a senior and Diana was a junior.

  Diana turned out to be a great homemaker learning how to manage a household by taking care of her parents, both of whom worked during her high school years. Diana had the responsibility of grocery shopping and cooking dinner for them. She was a great cook; I immediately put on about ten pounds.

  Within a short time, we fell into a routine of going to school during the week; studying during the evenings and weekends. I worked for the public
schools Monday through Saturday running an after school and weekend playground program for elementary school children. Our social life consisted of getting together with friends and her family on weekends.

  Our life together seemed ideal for the first few months; then I discovered Diana had a temper. When she became frustrated, she regressed into tantrums, yelling, crying, and sometimes taking a swing at me or slapping my arms.

  Since I’d never been around anyone who acted like Diana did; I tried my best to be patient and calm her down. But, her failure to get me riled up frustrated her even further, creating more anger.

  Over time, her temper tantrums became more frequent, ending when she fell to the floor in a pout. My only experience with this type of behavior was when I was working on the playground. When the children threw such tantrums, I had to report it to the school principal. Who was I going to report Diana’s behavior to?

  It became apparent I had an extremely immature wife. She seemed to be collapsing under the combined pressures of going to school, working at her mother’s advertising agency, studying, and taking care of our household. The smallest issues were drowning her. After a long talk, we agreed to divide up the responsibilities around our apartment. She also agreed to talk to me before things got out of control.

  Her temper tantrums became worse because of the asthma she suffered since childhood; when her temper flared, her breathing became impaired. These episodes terrified her; it was important for her well-being we work together on these issues.

  Yet, another problem persisted; she avoided intimacy with me. This hurt and frustrated me. I responded by becoming very quiet and distant during the long dry spells; our relationship was suffering.

  “Honey, why don’t you want to make love more often? I love you and I want to be intimate with you.”