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Authors: Jay M. Londo

War Torn Love

BOOK: War Torn Love
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This is my ninth novel: I dedicate this particular novel to the only true love of my life, Mrs. Londo -this is for you my darling! And of course, the other women in my life are special too!

 

 

 

             
When my wife and I met, it was love at first sight! We married five months later, and have been married more than 23 years. Therefore, you can see why my honey has been my muse for all the females in all of my books. A little piece of her has gone into several heroines. All strong, independent in nature, yet loving, with a bit of spice, and stubbornness thrown in, and once in a while her softer side to round them off.

 

 

 

Check out my other books:

 

*
H
umanity’s
Last Stand

 

*
The Cave

 

*
Silverback Island

 

*
Alone In The Woods

 

*Attila’s Lost Gold

 

 

 

Contact me on face book

 

 

 

This is a fictional story, but many events happened to many Jews. I do not intend
downplaying
any of the
horrors,
they went though. We should all be educated, and not forget what took place!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

 
                

 

           
“INTRODUCTIONS ARE IN ORDER”

 

 

 

 

 

             
If you think about it, love is an incredibly extraordinary, a truly magnificent, and an all so powerfully potent thing.  It cannot be seen, or physically touched, or controlled. The way it works cannot exactly be explained.  Love can come out of nowhere and pick us out of the blue - it just picks us. We do not pick whom we will fall in love with. If the
two-love
bird’s
care for one another as it ought to be, then the love between the couple will grow and cultivate.  It will foster into something quite extraordinary and miraculous - like a prize-winning rose, opening up to the warmth of the afternoon sun. Love can help us see the good in our mates - which others may not.  Love helps you look though the superficial things.

 

             
Love is also a measure of the toughness that life throws at you. A unvarying test of life,  if the relationship can continue to exist all the wild tribulations of life - like starting up a family, a demanding career, growing older together, all the financial ups and downs, good as well as bad health, and the loss of a family member, and all the other stresses that go along with life. But the greatest ordeal of all, to the true strength, the love and bond, and character to the couple in love, is whether or not their old or young. 
Separation from one another - the inability to physically touch our partners - the smell of their scent, especially if the couples separations comes when it’s a forced severance - caused by evil torrents, against our will - millions upon millions had unfortunately experienced at some stage during war-time, especially during World War Two. When it seemed hell had opened wide open, and humanities survival was being called into question. Civilization was at the brink - close to a tipping point. A number of lovers were forever separated, never to be reunited - rekindling with their one true loves.  Others only parted for a short time. And if the two people in love can pull through all this when so much had been stacked up against them trying to pull them apart, adapt to all of life’s challenges, and then they
have a
pretty good chance at a truly happy, rich, fulfilling, magical life together. Some couples only get to feel this wonderful burning inside - the passion love brings on if only for a fleeting moment, yet it somehow fulfills them for the rest of their lives. Some sadly never experience this. I consider that a true tragedy.

 

             
Abram and I were put though our very own test - more than we should have been perhaps - but rather than telling you the end of our own story, living life is the best part of life itself.  I like to think of the good in things. I am going to take you way back, to do my story properly…

 

             
First - pardon my manors-allow me to introduce myself.  Back then, my maiden name was Hana Wakstok. Oh, my goodness, a lot of water has passed under the bridge, since I went by my maiden name - so many seasons. My tale starts off traditionally enough - boy meets
girl, and with the sure innocence of the heart of two little children. So innocent-so pure in God’s eyes.  My story is out of the ordinary in some respects.

 

Take a moment; ask yourself this, do you believe in love?

 

I am not talking about just love between a man and a woman - know what I am referring to is true love between two
soul mates
? Not everyone can claim to have experienced this magnificent sort of passion. Everyone should have such a wonderful chance, that I was blessed with. Rummage around the depths of your heart; remember when and how you met your own,
soul mate
. God bless you if you have, never take that for granted, or lose sight of  it.
 

 

             
Close your eyes, take a deep breath, try and reflect on what I’m asking.  Have you asked yourself this much-be honest with yourself. Have you even known the very first time that you spotted that someone that completely enchanted
you that
caught your
eye?
Intriguing you even though this someone is new in your life, even had the good-fortune if it was for the briefest of encounters, maybe you were completely blind-sided by this person - caught off guard by spontaneous encounters, was it while riding on the bus, or perhaps while you were in the coffee shop. How you may have thought this love at first sight does not really matter. The fact remains t
hat you did –that’s all
that really counts. Nevertheless, when you do finally spot this new person - knowing full well that they’re the stranger before you find they are predestined to be your soul-mate - a blessed feeling you just couldn’t put into words. A wonderful sensation you have never experienced before.
Did you meet this person only after you had resigned to the fact that you were not going to find someone special? Once you did – and found them - in your
heart,
you knew it to be true, as crazy as it may sound. You find when you spot this stranger, you’re finally interested in, your breathing becomes all flustered, your heart starts racing… You want to shout out to the world - telling anyone that will listen - just how wondrous this person truly is. Even though you know nothing about this stranger. You want to call your parents, and tell them that you met the man, or woman you will marry. The only gamble in this,
one-step
away from heartbreak - at this delicate juncture to have the cards all fall in the same place is key. That is, does the other person you suddenly feel the same – that they are lifelong
soul mate
? Do they actually harbor the same strong bond for you? If they do, you both quickly discover if you would do anything to stay together, from the very first glimpse of one another.

 

             
It has been said, that at birth all men and women are purposely separated from our one true
soul mate
- Ying and Yang. That no matter how long it takes, both separated mates spend their lives searching for their other half to become complete - to find the right person that we are predestined to bond with.

 

             
In the case
of my
own particular love story, that would have been a resounding yes. I found my yang, while we were still in our childhood. So because we were such a great match, we became best of friends. Almost if it was true fate - destiny that God willing, brought us together.
Every day I am truly thankful for that - I never take it for granted.

 

             
I was actually blessed enough to have experience just such an incredibly passionate and warm sensation, Though of course it should be clearly understood at the time, I began this romance at eight years of age. I guess I really had no idea what this sort of love even was. What this young boy was going to end up truly meaning to me. I was not actually sure if at this age, I had even liked boys. In both our cases, I would have to say what we had back then was definitely a close friendship. But thinking back about it now after all this time, I recon he split-second I laid eyes on my beloved Abram, maybe I knew somewhere deep inside of me, that we would one day marry.

 

             
Let us see, it was in the early part of the month of June - yes that’s right. In the grand year of 1929. Abram - as well as our families - and I lived in the town of Kutno Poland, in the Jewish section of the town. We lived in a two-story house built in the mid-1800’s, with some modern updates  made more recently. Poppa had the house plumbed and wired for electricity when we moved in. Poppa owned a men’s clothing store, mainly men’s fine suits. He was quite successful in business - he worked so hard to put
food on
the table and give us a good life. They were much different times.

 

             
I faithfully committed this wonderful part of my young life, to my memories as if it had just happened. These days
it is
all I can remember - I’m in the early stage of dementia, so I replay them over in my head like watching a movie - as I stare out the window, watching for
signs of spring approaching.
So much has changed between now and then. That little girl sometimes seems like she never existed, she was so spunky.
Oh
and how could I forget all those lovely freckles? Some of the things I ended up experiencing afterward in life were so horrible - it was these beloved early memories that kept me going through the hard times. The memories with my beloved Abram gave me all the strength I ever needed.

 

             
Now let me see - the day the two of us met - well recall that it was a quite beautiful sunny day - not a cloud in the sky. It was a perfect, baby blue - the same shade as Abram’s eyes.  My heart melted every time I look into them. It was rather hot - unseasonably warm for this part of June, and the house was stifling in the afternoon.  Especially up in my room, which was on the second floor - the side that received all the afternoon sun. But in the evening there was always a calm, gentle wind that was sweeping down starting off from out of the North Sea, which was keeping it from getting even hotter than it did. The swirling air was filled with the unsullied fresh smells of all of Momma’s prize winning roses, and carnation, and all the honeysuckles that grew abundantly on the trestles on the house and barn. Every summer since the last time I left the family home for the last time, I’ve searched out these familiar childhood smells - because they reminded me of Momma, and dear Abram, both I lost so very long ago. It is marvelous how a scent can recall the smallest,
happiest
memories
.

BOOK: War Torn Love
5.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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