We met as teenagers.
It was the summer of 1940 and the weight of war was dwelling on the country's shoulders. We were young and innocent, and we were naïve to the threat that world war posed to us in our homes and schools, and our daily lives.
To us, war was the horrific concept that drew our peers and colleagues, our friends and family, our neighbours and our foes, away from us to fight an unwinnable war. Our parents talked and worried about it daily, their ears practically glued to the radios that sat on the kitchen counter.
It was a Saturday night, mid-July, and I was at the movies with a close friend seeing Bugs Bunny's official film debut in an animation called 'A Wild Hare'. The film ended and as I bid my friend goodbye, he bumped into my shoulder.
A young man, perhaps a year older than my own 17 years, turned around to face me. He was a little taller than I, his shaggy auburn hair falling over his green eyes – green eyes that sparkled as he smiled an apology. He introduced himself as Eddie Cullen, and offered to walk me home. When I shook my head, he insisted that "a pretty girl could not dare walk home alone on such a dark night". I blushed at the compliment and allowed him to accompany me to my home, where my father was waiting and thanked the handsome young man who had "so kindly" accompanied his little girl home. I hid my embarrassment at my father's formality, but Eddie seemed unfazed. He asked my father for permission to see me again, and I had never seen my father so impressed.
I think I fell in love with him at that very moment.
It was a short courtship, and within 9 months of that first meeting, Eddie was asking my fathers' permission to propose. He asked for my hand April 22nd 1941, and I didn't even hesitate before throwing my arms around his neck and saying "Yes!"
A short engagement, we married the following month, knowing that any day my Eddie would receive a letter calling him up for National Service. He couldn't refuse, he was never the type of man to be cowardice – always wanting to help people no matter the consequences to him. I wore my mother's dress and we married in front of our closest friends and family – an intimate and unstated occasion to celebrate, but not exploit, our love and adoration.
Two months after our wedding, the letter came.
Eddie was called up for war service, and had to report to duty the following week. We both cried and spent the days we had left, holding one another and just being together.
The morning he left, he whispered in my ear, "Bell, I promise you, no matter what happens to me, I'll always love you and be with you. Our love is eternal." And as he pressed his lips to mine, with a tear rolling down my cheek, I cried, "Forever."
Days passed as I anxiously listened to the radio sitting on my kitchen counter – just as our parents had done and still did – and I jumped every time there was a knock on the door. Days turned into months and eventually, after 6 months, Eddie came home on leave.
He told me of the shocking and horrific scenes he had witnessed, and I could see how much they had affected him. He was still my Eddie, but his soul was shaken by those images. I never strayed from his side the two weeks he was home, finding comfort in having him in my presence and offering him solace in my arms.
He had to report back to duty two weeks later and as he drove away from me I felt my stomach drop. A sense of dread came over me as I waved goodbye. I pushed the bad feeling away, taking comfort from a small group of young women who had been in the same situation as I.
A month or two after waving goodbye to my husband, I received a telegram from his sergeant major. My eyes flooded with tears and my breath caught in my throat when I saw the young boy cycling up the small hill to our little house. I accepted the telegram with a shaky smile and the young boy nodded before going on with his rounds.
I opened the telegram hesitantly, terrified at what I would see, and I let out a cry as I saw that he was perfectly fine. The telegram stated that he had been shot in the arm on the battlefield and rushed to a nearby hospital. The bullet had just grazed his arm, and the medical corp. treated him back to full health.
He came home to me a few weeks later, his right arm still bandaged and held in a sling. He was medically discharged and didn't have to fight again, and for months I never let him out of my sight. Eventually his arm healed and he was back to himself again – he was back to my Eddie.
His spirits had lifted with being home, and being surrounded by our friends and family – but with him coming back to me, we suffered another loss.
My uncle Billy had passed away a month or so after Ed had returned home, he had always suffered from heart problems and he died in his bed from a heart attack. The coroner assured us that he had felt no pain. Being a bachelor, the lawyer soon revealed that he had left his established farm to Eddie and me.
We moved in the following year after our house on the hill had been sold, and we soon settled into life on a farm. It was different, but Uncle Billy had a few people already employed to help him with the daily running of the farm, and we kept them on to show us the ropes.
I fell pregnant with our first child, Charles William, the following winter, and his little face lit up our lives with even more joy and love than before.
Two years later, our daughter, Rosie, surprised us by coming 3 weeks early, but she soon became a hyper, energetic and bubbly child.
Our children grew up happy, healthy and we tried to teach them the same way our parents' had done so with us. As the years went on, Charles and Rosie began to walk and talk, growing into delightful children.
They gained a sibling in 1960, when our youngest child, Alice, came into the world. She was a shy girl but her siblings – Charlie being 12 and Rosie being 10 at the time of her birth – protected their baby sister fiercely.
The five of us lived happily together on the farm, our egg trade thriving even over a decade after rationing was over. The children loved living and growing up on a farm, every one of them wanting to help out in any way they could before school or, eventually, work.
At 18, Charlie came to Eddie and me, telling us about a girl he had met at the movies. Ed placed his hand on top of mine and I pressed my lips to his cheek as we listened to our eldest son, our first born, talk about his future wife.
He proposed to young Lilian the following year, and they married a few months after. In 1968, she fell pregnant with our first grandchild, George, and in the same year, Rosie's boyfriend of two years, Emmett, came to Eddie and asked for his permission to marry our daughter. We knew how much she adored the lovely young man, so Eddie gave him his full permission.
With our two eldest both married and out of the house by '69, we focused on little Alice. She was such an inquisitive child, and she definitely kept us on our toes. She grew up and became a vet, telling us that her love for animals stemmed from our farm. She eventually became a licensed vet and opened up her own practice before meeting her future husband, Jasper, at a conference a few years later.
Me and Eddie enjoyed the peace and quiet again as we grew old together. Our grandchildren – all 8 of them eventually – frequently visited and stayed overnight and we maintained a close bond with our children even though we all lived separately.
As Eddie and I grew older and weaker, our eldest Charlie offered to take the farm off our hands so we wouldn't have to worry about it. Eventually, we swapped houses – Charlie and his family moved to the farm, and we moved into his old place – and it was both fulfilling and bittersweet to watch our first child, and his children, start out in a similar way as we did.
It was scary to think how fast our babies grew up; it seemed only yesterday I was holding them all for the first time. Now, they weren't that far away from holding their own grandchildren.
I don't feel old. I feel I have had a long and eventful life, but I don't feel old.
I feel blessed.
I found my soul mate as a young girl, lived a long and ecstatically happy life with him. We had beautiful and intelligent children and, most importantly, happy children who gave us 8 gorgeous grandchildren.
And most of all, I led a life of love.
Of course, with love comes loss - but only temporary.
Eddie, my Eddie, left me 6 months ago. But we won't be apart for long.
He says he's coming for me soon, and I believe that – no matter how long it takes – I will be with him again.
I waited for him once, and by God, I would wait for my Eddie again.