No Limits
"You and I have memories
Longer than the road that stretches out ahead"
"The Two of Us" by Paul McCartney/John Lennon
The Alzheimer's unit at Fairfield Nursing Home was the best Jenny had ever worked at. It had wide halls and airy, cheerful common spaces. The patients' rooms were comfortable and pleasant rather than designed in institutional drear. On her first day, the charge nurse, Wanda, showed her around as she talked about the changing attitudes and improvements in geriatric care. Of course, a stay at Fairfield wasn't cheap. It came at a cost only the most financially secure could afford. A standard for the future.
The common room was an open, high-ceilinged space that let the California sun pour in. A wall of windows overlooked a well-tended garden. That was where Wanda introduced Jenny to Mrs. Marsh and her daughter, Marjory, who came once a week to bring her mother fresh-baked cookies and read her poetry. Mrs. Beaker sat with her husband of 53 years. Today was a good day; she had remembered all her children's names as her delicate fingers traced the well-worn photographs he had brought out. Mr. Grayson sat hunched in a corner, his cardigan buttoned haphazardly. Sadly, he rarely had visitors anymore, but the staff did their best to stand in the gap.
Nearest the windows where the view of the garden was best, a man with silver-white hair and warm blue eyes leaned in to tell a joke to his companion as they sat together, a board game barely separating the space between them. A wicked gleam came to the other's eyes as he barked a laugh. When Wanda introduced Jenny, she admired his peppered curls and crooked smile.
"Ken Hutchinson, David Starsky, this is Jenny Wright. She will be joining our team here."
The fair-haired man rose politely, if somewhat stiffly and wrapped her hands in long, elegant fingers. "Now, Starsk," he addressed the other, "don't get any ideas about stealing this lovely lady away from me. Remember the rules. I saw her first."
"Rules, schmules. You've never been competition for me, Blondie." David Starsky's careful annunciation did nothing to take away the affectionate teasing in his words.
"How about the rule 'no fraternizing with the staff,' " Wanda joined in their light-hearted banter.
"You know Hutch 'n me, Wa. .Wanda, we've never been much for rules."
The nurses exchanged a few more pleasantries about who was winning their game and the flowers blooming in the garden before moving on.
"Mr. Hutchinson and Mr. Starsky are favorites of the staff here," Wanda explained, "but don't let them talk you into any special favors." The way she smiled let Jenny know that even the business-like charge nurse had fallen victim to their charm more than once. "Mr. Starsky has been a resident here for nearly a year and I don't think there's been a day that Hutch," she lapsed into the familiar nickname, "hasn't come to visit him."
"That's rather unusual, isn't it?" As familiar as she was with nursing home routines, Jenny knew that once a patient became a long-term resident, even visits from spouses and children could become few and far between.
"Hutch is quite devoted to Starsky. They've been friends for most of their lives. Years ago they were partners together with the Bay City Police Department. On Starsky's good days, they'll talk your ear off about it." They turned the corner and headed toward the dining room that was more like a pleasant cafe than a typically cold cafeteria. Appealing aromas drifted from the kitchen.
"Thanks for letting me know. I'd love to hear their stories." Jenny had always thought one of the best things about her job was talking to the patients in her care about their lives. She had discovered the most interesting people among the most ordinary. Everyone had a story to tell if one took the time to listen.
"That's on Starsky's good days, of course. On his bad days you'd do best to just leave them both alone. Hutch will be no more sociable than Starsky. It's strange how in sync they seem to be." Wanda's line of thought wandered for a moment before she continued to give Jenny the rundown of Fairfield.
"One more thing, Jenny. Don't mention anything to Starsky about financial matters here. Hutch takes care of all his expenses and he would prefer to keep that information confidential."
"Of course." Jenny nodded her assent, impressed at the unusual generosity.
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Jenny's day had been long and taxing, the way of all first days at new jobs. The stress of finding her way around Fairfield and learning the names and routines of dozens of patients mingled with the reassurances of co-workers that she'd soon pick up on it all. She sunk into her favorite chair and kicked off her Nurse Mates (designed with ultimate comfort for long hours on your feet). She hadn't even completed a deep sigh when the telephone rang.
"Where have you been? I've called twice already." Her fiancé's voice vibrated with irritation. He hated to be kept waiting.
"I just got home, Tom. I started my new job today and I'm scheduled to work until 5." She repeated what she told him yesterday, and the day before that.
"Oh yeah, right. I need you to run out and pick up a birthday present for Mr. Danvers' daughter tonight."
"Why am I getting a present for your boss's daughter?"
"Because I offered to do it when he mentioned he hadn't had a chance. We've been so busy going over the new equipment. You know how it works in business, Jenny. One hand washes the other."
"Then why don't you do it?"
A sign of exasperation. "Tonight's my poker night. Besides, what do I know about buying some kid's dumb present?"
Jenny counted to ten.
"Don't make a big deal of this, Jen."
She counted to twenty. "How about cutting out of the game a little early. We can have a glass of wine and I'll tell you about my day."
"Just do like I asked, will you? You always want to complicate things."
A deep breath. "Sure." Heaven forbid she be accused of being difficult.
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The next day was a good one, too. Starsky spent the morning working crossword puzzles until Hutch stopped in around noon to join him for lunch. Jenny saw them in the garden where Starsky was relishing the over-stuffed burrito Hutch had brought him. She watched from a discrete distance for a few minutes as Hutch gently dabbed at the sauce that leaked down his friend's chin before she approached.
"I never could get Starsky away from the junk food," he gave a little shrug and smiled.
"He certainly seems to enjoy Mexican."
"Tacos, pizza, chili dogs. You name it, he'd eat it – if the staff would let him, that is. Used to be he'd drag me to all over town for craziest stuff. He even knew a place once that served peanut butter con jelly burritos."
"Well, it was better than the butterfly bones you ate!" Starsky interrupted after swallowing the last bite.
Jenny laughed at his feigned indignation. "Butterfly bones?"
"You know damn well I didn't eat butterfly bones, mush brain. It was blackstrap molasses and desiccated liver." No doubt they'd had this exchange a hundred times. Once more wouldn't hurt. "The health food they have now is so much more appealing. Everyone eats vegan and gluten-free these days."
"Not me," Jenny interjected. "Give me a good old pepperoni pizza any day."
"My kinda girl," Starsky nodded his approval. "How 'bout you and me ditch this joint for a night on the town, schweethart. My dance moves will sweep you off your feet, right Blintz?"
"A pretty girl like Jenny probably has a dozen guys already waiting in line." Hutch gave her a wink and she was taken aback at how his blue eyes sparkled. The devastating young man he had been was still plain to see and she shook off the vision.
"No, Mr. Hutchinson. . ."
"Just Hutch."
"No, Hutch, not dozens I'm afraid. Only one."
"Then he's an awfully lucky guy," Starsky added. "What's his name?"
"Tom Patterson. He's my fiancé."
"Tom Patterson." Starsky repeated the name slowly, as if determined to commit it to memory. Hoping that it would still be there tomorrow. "Does Tom take you out dancing?"
"Not too much, I'm afraid to say."
"Tell her how I used to be a dance instructor, Hutch. Go on, tell her."
"I'm sure she has more important things to do than listen to us rattle on, Starsk." Hutch reminded him patiently.
"A dance instructor? I thought you were a police officer."
"Police detective." He clarified proudly. "We worked undercover a lot. There was a time we . . . " Jenny watched his smile dim. Memories teased, then pulled away from him like waves that lapped at the shore then withdrew, unable to be pinned down.
She moved to pat his hand, but Hutch's was there before her. "It's okay, Starsk. We'll talk later."
"Sure, Starsk." She caught herself using Hutch's name for his friend. "I'll be here every day. We'll have lots of time to get to know each other. I promise."
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"There's a new Italian restaurant that just opened in Venice. Would you like to go try it this weekend?" Jenny lifted the dinner plate from the table in front of Tom and carried it to the sink.
"I don't know, Jen. Italian food always has so many carbs. I thought you wanted to drop a few pounds before the wedding." He studied his iPhone as his index finger swiped to another screen.
"I know, but I heard they make an awesome eggplant parm. I'll split it with you. "
"We'll see." Another swipe to the left. Steven Jobs had altered dinner-time conversation forever.
"I'll even pass on the wine." She sat down in front of him waiting for his attention before she spoke again. After a few more minutes he laid the phone on the table and looked at her. His eyes were brown shadows.
"They have a band there. We could get in some dancing." Jenny continued to cajole.
"You know I don't dance."
"Yes I know, but we need to practice for the wedding. Don't you want to have a first dance?" She pictured Ramon sweeping his partner across the dance floor, hips churning to a rumba, making even the most matronly woman feel desirable.
"We'll just stick to something basic. Not something to go viral. "
That was Tom. Safe, solid. Virtues she'd never questioned before. It was what her parents loved about him. He was grounded enough to give direction to her flights of fancy. "You're not getting any younger," her mother would remind her, as if love had an expiration date.
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Starsky and Hutch weren't like any other people Jenny had ever come across in her work. It was easy to understand how, as Wanda had suggested, they were favorites not only of the staff, but of visitors as well. They were happy to share stories and jokes with anyone who had time to listen, especially the rare children who came by. On sunny days they strolled the grounds, Hutch touching Starsky's arm lightly, or fished the small pond on the property that was stocked for the residents' use. Hutch had shown such interest in the flowers and plants that he was considered an honorary member of the landscaping staff. On other days they played Monopoly for hours (Hutch insisted Starsky was the world's worst player) or watched old movies until Starsky dozed off on Hutch's shoulder.
Then there was a day that wasn't so good. Starsky had been irritable and restless and even Hutch's jokes and teasing hadn't helped. Jenny realized she had two patients instead of one as she watched Hutch's worry grow.
"We can give him a mild sedative to help him relax," Jenny suggested.
At first Hutch shook his head no, but as he watched Starsky pace in jerky, agitated strides and run into a table nearly toppling a lamp, he sadly agreed. When they had gotten Starsky into bed and his eyes were sliding to close, Hutch went to the closet and brought out a guitar that she hadn't noticed before.
He sat on the edge of the bed and brushed his fingers over the strings, a loving caress. Jenny imagined how he might have touched a woman that way and found herself swallowing hard.
"I wish I was the sunlight
Gently reaching out in space.
And I wish you were a chilly morn
So I could warm your face.
And I wish that I was a scarecrow
Because I have a scare or two.
And I wish that you were a stalk of corn
With me protecting you.
I wish I was a pillow because
I've got some softness, too.
And I wish you were a weary head
Alone with just me and you." *
By the time he had finished, Starsky was peacefully asleep. It wasn't only the medication that brought about the change. Her shift was over but she lingered on.
"Were you or Starsky ever married, Hutch?"
"Starsky never married, but I did. It was a long time ago."
That might have been a signal to change the subject but still she asked. "What happened?"
The question may have been too personal for her position, still Hutch gave her a painfully beautiful smile.
"Her name was Vanessa and we were both very young. I guess I knew from the start that we weren't right for each other."
"Then why'd you marry her?"
"It was more my parents' idea than mine. I just wanted their approval. They wanted me to go to law school, marry Van and settle down in Duluth, my home town. Have a couple of kids, a big house, the whole nine yards."
"You went to law school?" Now that she knew him better, she couldn't imagine him being anything other than a police detective. No, that wasn't quite right. She couldn't imagine him being anything other than Starsky's partner.
"For a time. Until I realized it wasn't right for me. I'd dreamed of being on the police force since I was a kid. I guess I was just drawn to helping the underdog. I dragged Van out to California, away from our families. Then I enrolled in the police academy. I thought that the distance would give us the freedom to find ourselves."
"Did you?"
"In a way." He turned to Starsky sleeping nearby with a tender look she envied. "That's where I found Starsky."
He watched his friend a few minutes before continuing. "Van didn't like it in California. She liked living on a policeman's salary even less. My parents had put money in a trust for me, but I didn't want to use it. I wanted to live like everyone else on my beat. I thought that would help me identify with them more. Help me be a better cop. Van couldn't understand that. So she left."
"Where's Vanessa now?"
"She died," he said simply, turning back to his guitar, and Jenny didn't ask anymore.
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"Someone named Wanda for you." Jenny was putting away groceries so Tom answered her ringing phone. He handed it to her then reached around to snag a beer from the refrigerator before she closed the door.
"Hello?"
"Jenny, its Wanda. I just thought you'd want to know they're transporting Starsky to Memorial. His fever spiked during the night and Dr. Warner wants to see him there."
"Where's Hutch?"
"Where do you think? He was up with him all last night and still hasn't left. They're bringing the ambulance around now. I just thought you'd want to know."
"Thanks, Wanda. I appreciate it." Jenny touched the symbol that ended the call and turned to Tom as he sat watching the golf channel. "I'm going to run down to Memorial for a while."
"Isn't it your day off?"
"Yes, but they're sending Starsky there. I want to check on him." She stuck her phone in the front pocket of her purse and felt for her keys.
"Who?"
"You know. Starsky. As in Starsky and Hutch. The two guys I've been telling you about." Bubba Watson just made a birdie and she knew she might as well be talking to the wall.
"Oh yeah, right." Yeah, right. "How long will you be?"
"I don't know. I'll call you." She said as she closed the door behind her.
Hutch was sitting next to Starsky's bed in room 412 looking every bit as though he hadn't ate or slept for more than a day when Jenny walked in and laid a hand on his shoulder. When had she picked up their habit of communicating by touch? It was an effort for him to peal his gaze away from his friend.
"Can I get you something?" She asked.
"I wasn't expecting to see you here." He brushed aside her concern, but as tired and worried as he must have been, he still found a small smile for her.
"Wanda called and told me about Starsky. I knew you'd be watching after him, but who's going to watch after you?"
"Now that's a question, isn't it?" He mused. "For as long as I can remember we've been watching each other's backs. Never really needed anyone else. Just Me and Thee."
"Me and Thee?"
"That was what we used to say when we got in a tight spot and wondered who we could trust."
"Makes sense." She pulled another chair up next to Hutch's. How considerate of the hospital to provide two such contrivances even though they couldn't possibly be good for the old man's back.
"Why don't you go home and get some rest. I'll stay with Starsk." Somehow she understood that it was important he not wake up alone.
"I appreciate that, Jenny. But I'll just wait here. I'm used to this. Seems like we've spend a lifetime around hospitals."
"Is that so?" Jenny hoped he'd feel encouraged to share a story that might take his mind off his friend.
"Oh yes. We've been knifed, shot at, poisoned. . ."
Hutch must have noticed Jenny shiver at the graphic images his words conveyed and changed direction. "But somehow we made it through. Starsky's the most stubborn man I've ever known. Once he sets his mind to something, he never quits." He gestured to the man in the bed. "He won't let this get him down."
"How do you know?" Jenny felt as if she was standing on the wrong side of a mirror, receiving comfort when she had come to dispense it.
Hutch shrugged. "One time I was run off the road. My car flipped over and slid down an embankment. It couldn't be seen from the road and I was trapped for over two days. I knew Starsk would find me. I knew he'd never give up, so neither did I."
"It must have been wonderful to have a partner like that."
"He was the best. Still is. Did we ever tell you about the time I got a plague and almost died?
Jenny shook her head.
"A hit man was brought in from South America to take out a mob boss but he had picked up a plague virus and was spreading it all over town. He was the only person with the antibodies that could be used for a cure but he was in hiding, waiting to make his hit. Unfortunately, I just happened to get infected, too. They only gave me hours to live. Starsk moved heaven and earth to find the hit man so the doctors could make a vaccine. He even confronted the mob boss at his own headquarters. Can you believe it? A police detective thinking he could work a deal with a mob boss?" Hutch shook his head in wonder even after all the years.
"There I was, lying in bed, burning up, suffocating. But one thing kept me going. Starsk had written his name in red lipstick right across the quarantine ward window for me to see while he was out hunting down the hit man. He wanted me to know that he was my guaranty I would survive."
Standing toe to toe with a killer. Bold letters on glass. A partner who trusted him with his life. Suddenly the frail, pepper haired man didn't seem so frail in Jenny's eyes.
Starsky was released from Memorial and taken back to Fairfield once his condition had stabilized a week later. But slowly his number of good days diminished as his bad days increased. Although Starsky's ability to talk faded, Hutch's pattern of daily visits never changed. He spent long hours by Starsky's side, reading to him from the comic pages of the newspaper and telling jokes when he was alert, playing his guitar and reading novels or poetry when he wasn't.
Sometimes they had visitors - former Bay City police officers and officials, locals with whom had they'd become familiar over the years of working the streets, even a tall and lanky black man who signed the register "Huggy Bear." One day a woman around Starsky and Hutch's age came by. Soft ash-gold hair floated around her still beautiful face and she gave her name as Alice in a sweet, southern drawl. Jenny fought the jealousy that sparked as Hutch kissed her cheek and she carded Starsky's curls with a tender hand.
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"Do you have any special readings you want for the wedding?"
"What?" Tom pointed the remote at the TV as he clicked through Netflix.
"You know, a favorite poem or something?" The notes and clippings of wedding ideas Jenny had been collecting covered the dining table like a quilt made of paper.
"What do I care about poetry?" He settled on "Hamburger Hill" and pressed play.
"How about something a little non-traditional? I found this one by a poet named "mvernet":
"Love is a precious, precious thing,
Around its talon it wears a ring
To show that it is not alone.
It belongs somewhere, it has a home.
So simple, yet, so hard to give,
Release your love to let love live." **
The sound of exploding grenades and shrieks of someone in agony – or having wild sex – invaded from the living room.
"Okay, how about a special song?" Jenny persisted, testing her determination.
"I thought we were going to just use some recorded stuff. It's going to be boring enough as it is. You know everyone comes to these things just for the booze at the reception."
"I've been thinking I might like a guitar at the ceremony. Something soft and romantic."
"You've got to be kidding, Jenny. Isn't that pretty lame?"
"I don't think so. Hutch plays the guitar so beautifully." If she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply she could almost feel his music touch her like a living thing.
"You mean one of those old guys at the nursing home you've been spending so much time with lately?"
"Yes. You should come by to hear him sometime."
"You really are getting too involved with your work, Jenny."
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Starsky was failing rapidly. Everyone realized it but no one wanted to talk about it. More often than not Starsky wouldn't even acknowledge anyone in the room. Only Hutch. Their communication had dwindled to touch alone. One evening Jenny came in to check on them before she clocked out. Hutch had climbed into the bed with Starsky and wrapped his arm around his friend, cradling the curls against his shoulder. It was an intimacy she felt was almost too private to watch.
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"Tell me about your wedding plans." Hutch asked as Starsky dozed a few days later. The window curtains had been pulled aside as far as possible, letting in the honeyed afternoon sun.
"Nothing too exciting really," Jenny shrugged. She checked Starsky's vitals carefully so as not to disturb him.
"A wedding is always exciting. I may be an old guy, but I've been involved in enough weddings to know that nothing is more exciting to a couple in love."
"Tell that to Tom. I can't seem to get him excited about much when it comes to us. We just don't, I don't know, seem to be . . . in sync, I guess."
"Do you love him?"
"He's got a great job, he's reliable, my parents like him. They think he's perfect for me."
"I asked if you loved him."
Jenny studied her clipboard to avoid the penetrating blue of the man's eyes. He was adept at asking probing questions and mining the truth. No wonder he'd been such a good detective, she considered not for the first time.
"I thought I did, once. I don't know any more. Maybe I just didn't know what love was . . . before." She stopped, embarrassed by the admission as it slipped out. But once spoken aloud, it was as though a light had switched on and banished deep-seated shadows.
"Jenny," his long fingers reached under her chin and lifted her face. "Don't settle for a partial love, no matter what anyone else thinks. A love with no limits is out there somewhere waiting for you. You just might find it in an unexpected place."
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Starsky made another trip to Memorial toward the end of March, Hutch at his side. Pneumonia had taken up residence in his weakened lungs. Without the man with peppered curls and his silver-haired companion, a shadow fell over the halls of Fairfield. Although death was accepted as another part of life there, Starsky and Hutch were unique. They were part of why Jenny felt so deeply about her job. The life around her was never taken for granted, a priceless pearl that only glowed more luminous over time.
Jenny stopped by the hospital on her way home from work Thursday, bringing Hutch a turkey sandwich on whole wheat and the new issue of National Geographic. When she walked into the room, Starsky was pulling weakly at the IV in his arm. Hutch gathered his hand and held it, then leaned in to whisper, "it's okay, babe. It's just medicine to help you."
She set the sandwich and magazine on the stand by the bed and fought back the tears that welled.
"Did Starsk ever mention Terry to you?" Hutch began, once Starsky had settled.
"Just once," she responded, thankful for the distraction. "She was his girlfriend who had been a special ed teacher, right?"
"Yes." His beautiful cornflower blue eyes narrowed as he examined her. "She was a lot like you. Full of love for life and people. Especially people who didn't fit in." A pause, then softer, "he wanted to marry her."
"Why didn't he?"
"She was injured by a stray bullet and eventually died." Jenny knew there was more to the story, but Hutch often tempered his descriptions of certain events for her benefit.
"How sad," she commented, not knowing what else to say. If there was anyone more deserving of home and family, she didn't know who it would be.
"It was okay though, at the end." A tender expression softened the classic features of his face. "Terry wasn't afraid to die as long as she lived every minute that she'd been given. She wasn't satisfied to play it safe."
"No wonder he loved her." She looked at the man now sleeping peacefully. He had earned his rest.
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Thunder rolled in later that night waking Jenny from a troubled sleep. She didn't need Wanda to call and let her know that Starsky was gone. She already knew.
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"You said you'd go with me today."
"Don't go making a big deal out of this, Jen."
"But it is a big deal. It's his funeral for god's sake." She tried to hold in her hurt and frustration. If she let it out it would only be held against her. Tom would tell her she was being emotional or unreasonable. He never seemed to see things from her side.
"Your old geezers die every day. You should be used to it by now. This golf outing is important. I can't help that my boss added me in at the last minute."
"They're not old geezers, Tom. They're people. And Starsky and Hutch are very special to me."
"Well this outing is special to me." He spit back. "Danvers is finally starting to notice me."
"You know you're only a filler for someone else who cancelled. He snaps and you jump."
He scowled at her. "That's the way it works in this world, Jen. Don't you know that by now?"
Maybe in his world, but she wasn't so sure she fit into that world anymore. Hell, she didn't even think she wanted to. Her priorities had shifted. She was a fixture that had been passed by every day but never thought of until moved. Then it was bumped into.
"I'd like to be noticed, too, sometimes."
Jenny hadn't even realized she'd spoke the thought aloud until Tom retorted, "What's that supposed to mean?"
She hadn't planned to say it, it just came out. Now wasn't the time for that kind of conversation. But she didn't want to take it back, either. The dam had cracked. "It's just that you don't even seem to see me anymore."
"Don't be stupid, Jen. I see you every day. I'm home practically every night, aren't I?" Could he really be as clueless as he sounded?
"Sure Tom. To eat dinner and watch TV and have sex. But we never talk. No, that's not right. I talk – you just don't listen." Wrong, so wrong, she thought, but the crack had widened and words kept spilling out. "When's the last time you even held my hand? You have no idea what's important to me. Sometimes I think you don't even know who I am."
Tears burned her cheeks and she knew she'd just lost the battle when he threw up his hands and stalked out.
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The service was small and simple. Hutch said Starsky had never liked soapy scenes. Still, many people gathered to place stones, including the eccentric Huggy Bear and soft-spoken Alice. Jenny knelt to lay her stones, too, then stood letting the tears stream down until she felt a light touch on her shoulder. She turned, expecting to see Hutch's red-rimmed eyes, but instead they were as serene and beautiful as a summer sky.
"How can you be so stoic about this?" Grief tinged her bitter words. Some days she wondered how anyone could be so strong.
"Starsk wouldn't want me to be unhappy." Hutch quietly explained. "He spent most of his life protecting me from things that would hurt me. I won't disappoint him. Don't be sad that he's gone, Jenny. Be happy that you had the privilege of knowing him."
Jenny was humbled by a love so strong it could overcome even the greatest loss.
"What will you do now?" She asked him.
"I'm going to go live the rest of my life. I know we'll find each other again someday." An unwavering determination. "What about you?"
Jenny took a deep breath as she gathered the courage to return his smile. "I think I'll do the same." She embraced him tightly and swore she felt the rhythm of two hearts in his chest.
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She had driven by the house a few weeks ago when she'd gone to the new Italian restaurant she'd been wanting to try. It was small but it sat back by the canal and had the most beautiful, though dated, tinted glass windows that let in the colors of a spectacular sunset. So different from the convenient apartment she and Tom shared. She decided then and there that it was perfect for her.
Back at the apartment she laid her ring on the table with a note. "Tom - I know a part of you loves me, but I need a love with no limits. I'm going out to find it." She was sad, terrified and exhilarated all at the same time. Then walked away with a slight swagger and crooked grin.
So lately, been wondering
Who will be there to take my place
When I'm gone, you'll need love
To light the shadows on your face
If a great wave shall fall
It'd fall upon us all
And between the sand and stone
Could you make it on your own?
If I could, then I would
I'll go wherever you will go
Way up high or down low
I'll go wherever you will go
And maybe, I'll find out
The way to make it back someday
To watch you, to guide you
Through the darkest of your days
If a great wave shall fall
It'd fall upon us all
Well I hope there's someone out there
Who can bring me back to you
If I could, then I would
I'll go wherever you will go
Way up high or down low
I'll go wherever you will go
Run away with my heart
Run away with my hope
Run away with my love
I know now, just quite how
My life and love might still go on
In your heart, in your mind
I'll stay with you for all of time
If I could turn back time
I'll go wherever you will go
If I could make you mine
I'll go wherever you will go
"Wherever You Will Go" – The Calling
* "I Wish I Was" lyrics by David Soul
** From "Love is a Precious Thing" by mvernet 2014/08/17/love-is-a-precious-precious-thing/