Happy Birthday--Gayle

She came into my life I think in the fall of 1959. A blind date. We went out with her sister and my buddy. “The twins” everybody called them. I knew from that first candlelit night in Mario’s Pizza place that something special was happening on my end. I can still remember that dark green dress she wore. Her hair was in a French twist. And she was—and is—the prettiest girl I had ever seen.

She and her sister were born December 10th, 1939 in Louisville, Kentucky. Her parents were surprised when the Doctor said, “There’s two.” They did not expect that. They named them Gayle and Gwyn and from then until now no two sisters could be closer or loved each other more. 

They were both fine musicians—her sister on the viola and Gayle on the piano. They were good enough to get scholarships and they chose the University of Louisville. They still claim it was the best school that ever was. 

And after we married in 1961 and moved to this country place in the middle of nowhere—she must have wondered what she had gotten herself into. And I am sure through the years—from church to church—she must have wondered more than once—what in the world have I gotten myself into.

Two kids and many dogs and cats came into our home through the years. Leslie, a curly-haired red head came first and four years later another red-head—Matthew came roaring into the world. There never was a better Mama. And when I was off doing “the Lord’s work” she was changing diapers and wiping away spills and keeping the ship steady and making sure the kids were not naked when they left the house. 

On our first trip to Paris I asked her, "Did you ever think we we would be in Paris?" And she said: "Sure." There was no doubt in her mind that things would be good even those days when I wondered. 

I love the old quote that says: “She was the brightest thing in the store window.” Still is. 

And so after many dangers, toils and snares she has stayed with me and been an utter delight. And on this, her birthday weekend I would stop and sing her the Doxology if I could carry a tune. Happy Birthday dear…I love you. I love you. I love you.

--Roger Lovette / rogerlovette.blogspot.com