Jenny Kissed Me

I was reading several beautiful romantic quotes a day or so ago and into my head popped Jenny Kissed Me, a poem by James Henry Leigh Hunt that my father had read to me several times.  I never forgot the last lines:

Say I'm weary, say I'm sad,
Say that health and wealth have missed me,
Say I'm growing old, but add,
Jenny kissed me.

Of course as a child I could never image being weary, sad, sick, poor and especially not old.  I remember thinking what a terrible life the poet must have had, to have a single kiss be the highlight of his existence.  I tried to imagine what his miserable days and years must have been like.  Was he a cripple? A failure in love and business?

Now that I am getting old - but thankfully not weary, sad, sick or poor - I understand this poem better.  I know that the times we remember most fondly when we have more memories than future possibilities are those instances when we experienced Pure Joy.  Perhaps seeing a child born or the happiness of being united under the Chuppah.  Perhaps recognition by professional colleagues or seeing your work in print or the first dollar you made in your own business. 

Or perhaps the best of all, the kiss from the one you never forgot...

;-)