A Love Story

My family’s suggestion that I document some of the highlights of my life has been a blessing to me. As I recall the wondrous experience of life, of living.

My great granddaughter, Mack, loves the story of how her beloved Dedo (her name for Steve) and her granny met. If you aren’t interested in old love stories, you don’t have to read on! (Editor’s note: 😆)

After high school, when it was determined that I did not have the means to go to college, I began to work in a local pharmacy as a pharmacist’s assistant and general lackey. We had a soda fountain in our store—anybody remember those? People came in, had a soda at the counter, or sat at the tables visiting.

Any of you who knew Steve remember how much he loved people, and loved to talk to people. He was happiest seated around a table of friends, drinking coffee, talking, sharing, arguing, just being together. He likes to come to the pharmacy and talk to people. I noticed him! I liked him! He had a brother, Jim, who also came in. Handsome, alluring, a local basketball star. Jim attracted the attention of all the girls. He was a STAR! But I liked Steve.

One day Steve came in the store with another girl, and of all things, bought her an expensive bottle of perfume, and I had to wait on them! But it wasn’t any serious romance. Later, we got to know each other.

The store stayed open until 10:30 on Saturday night. Everybody came to town on Saturday in those days. And stores, and sidewalks, and streets were crowded with people. We were the biggest town in our county.

One Saturday evening he said to me, “Come down to the bowling alley after work and we’ll bowl a couple of games. And I’ll take you home.” I knew when he said it that I wasn’t going to do that. The bowling alley was three blocks away, and you had to run the gamut of fellows all along the street whistling at you and making comments. Besides, no “nice” girl was seen on the street at 10:30 on Saturday night with no escort! So I didn’t go! I guess you could say I “stood him up.” I thought, “Well, that’s the end of a nice friendship. I won’t see him again.”

The next morning early, we all noticed a car coming down our long lane. It was him! Somehow he had found out where I lived. He got out of the car, came up to the house, “dressed to the nines”—all decked out! He said to me, “Come with me to church.” That started a lifetime of 63 years of going to church together. He didn’t say a word about the night before, and neither did I! Praise the Lord! He had a plan. By mutual consent, we were married in six months.

Early in our relationship, he invited me to go home with him to meet his family. Back in those days, an invitation to “meet the folks” was a big deal. He had told me that his mother was 42 and expecting a baby. To me, 42 was old! To my astonishment, when we got there, his mother was standing on the kitchen table painting at he ceiling. Her hair was prematurely white, and on top of that she was obviously pregnant! My first thought at seeing the situation was, “Oh my! What am I getting into?”

She said, “Stephen, do you remember me telling you about that cute girl at the pharmacy? This is her!” By that time, I was sold out. She was wonderful! I was hers forever.

The wedding that I look forward to now is the one in heaven. When the Lord Christ comes to claim His bride, take her home to heaven, where the wedding will take place. We will share His name and His glory. And with Him, all things shall be ours. With great anticipation we say, “Come, Lord Jesus!”