It was a Wednesday. I know this because on Wednesdays the Baptist church had family suppers.
And although I wasn’t exactly a faithful Sunday churchgoer, I was a devout mid-week supper-eater.
That night, I stood in line behind a girl, holding my plate. She was funny. She had so much personality she hummed like a neon light.
Later, I sat beside her during service. That week, there was an out-of-town preacher. The kind with big hair, sweat rags, and nice shoes. He invited people to walk the aisle to get born again.
My pal, Craig,—who lost his religion every football season—recommitted for his thirtieth time. He said he felt something in the air that night.
I did too.
When service let out, the girl wasn’t ready to go home. Neither was I. So, I suggested we drive. She liked the idea—though I’ll never know why.
I pointed my vehicle east, we headed for nowhere, traveling as slow as my engine would run. The miles of pines made her more chatty. She propped her feet on my dashboard and let the words roll.
She talked about things. About how she saw the world, about her favorite kind of mustard, about religion, and the proper way to eat fried chicken.
I gave one-syllable responses because I didn’t want to interrupt. She had a voice that sounded like Escambia County in June.
By the time we landed in Port Saint Joe, her one-sided conversation had faded to a stop. I looked at her. She was sleeping.
So, I pulled into a gas station and got lukewarm coffee.
On the ride back, I thought long and hard. Not just about the sleeping girl, but about how I’d gotten a late start in life. And about how my childhood was a pitiful one.
So pathetic, in fact, it embarrassed me to talk about—kind of like I’m doing now.
When my father died, he left a shadow on me, one I didn’t think would ever lift.
But that night, something did lift. I was someone else. I was the me I’d always known I should’ve been. Not the quiet young man who was too serious for baseball.
This girl. She’d done it to me without even trying. And even if I never saw her again, I was grateful for her.
When I arrived at her house, it was three in the morning. I walked her to the door. I hugged her and whispered, “Maybe I’ll see you again, sometime.”
She said, “What’n the hell’s maybe? ‘Course we’ll see each other, dummy.”
Every good thing in my life can be traced back to that night—the evening I became who I am. With her I have everything. Without her I’m a blind man.
That was the Wednesday I got born again.
23 comments
Christi McCully - February 14, 2017 3:59 pm
Happy valentines to both of you. I have always told my kids you know the right person because they make YOU a better person. Thanks for sharing your lives with us.
Sandra Marrar - February 14, 2017 4:25 pm
Beautiful! Happy Valentine’s Day!
Cherryl Shiver - February 14, 2017 4:54 pm
I just love your Miss Jamie !!! My better half is Sweet William, but many call him Bill. I would not take ten million dollars for him, but I would not give a plug nickel for another one just like him either. After 40 years, he is still my knight and shining armor, and still causes me to get the vapors.
Love like what you and me caught is hard to find……….
we are the Blessed Ones
W Barna - February 14, 2017 5:31 pm
Forty years ago yesterday, February 13, 1977, I took a beautiful young lady to the Cottonwood Point Ferry, and we rode across the river to Missouri. It was a Sunday afternoon, and as we sat on a sunny knoll overlooking “Old Man River”, I made the proposal of my life and presented all the ring that I could afford. My beautiful friend became my beautiful wife and we have spent glorious years traveling this pathway together, mostly “without agenda”, just seeing what comes next! It’s been a glorious trip with my forever Valentine!
Susie Munz - February 14, 2017 7:21 pm
Happy Valentine’s Day to you both.
Sandra Lee Van Dam - February 14, 2017 7:41 pm
I have a savior like that too. His name is Howard, and today is our 36th wedding anniversary!
Maureen - February 14, 2017 8:07 pm
so beautiful
Carol DeLater - February 14, 2017 9:20 pm
The kind of story you want to hear on Valentine’s Day. A REAL love story. The kind you think you will hear about in another 60 years when you are still in love. That’s how it is with me and mine. We met on a blind date. He said he new when I touched his chest while we danced. February 5, 1971 .. married August 7, 1971. And THAT’s another story!
Happy Valentine’s Day to you and our wonderful lady.
xx, Carol
W Barna - February 14, 2017 9:54 pm
Forty years ago yesterday, February 13, 1977, I took a beautiful young woman to the Cottonwood Point Ferry, and we rode across the river to Missouri. It was a Sunday afternoon, and as we sat on a sunny knoll overlooking “Old Man River”, I made the proposal of my life and presented all the ring that I could afford. My beautiful friend became my beautiful wife and we have spent glorious years traveling this pathway together, mostly “without agenda”, just seeing what comes next! It’s been a glorious trip with my forever Valentine!
W Barna - February 14, 2017 9:58 pm
Forty years ago yesterday, February 13, 1977, I took a beautiful young woman to the Cottonwood Point Ferry, and we rode across the river to Missouri. It was a Sunday afternoon, and as we sat on a sunny knoll overlooking “Old Man River”, I made the proposal of my life and presented the best ring that I could afford. My beautiful friend became my beautiful wife and we have spent glorious years traveling this pathway together, mostly “without agenda”, just seeing what comes next! It’s been a glorious trip with my forever Valentine!
Judy - February 14, 2017 10:26 pm
Sweetness.
Rose - February 15, 2017 1:09 am
What a wonderful story to read today. My hubby and I had our first date the last weekend in June of 1976….a month later we married. We have been married 40 yrs, be 41 in a few months. We had actually said hello to each other a couple times while passing in the halls of where we worked, but after the first date we saw each other every day…we talked and talked and talked.
Teri F Butler - February 15, 2017 2:02 am
Oh my Lord, man! You move me so, every time I read your words. Sometimes (often) you make me cry; sometimes you leave me in awe; always, always I’m so grateful a friend shared you with me and I have you to look forward to every morning! Thank you.
Michael Hawke - February 15, 2017 3:58 am
I know exactly what you mean. You beat me, by the way. I didn’t find the girl of my dreams until I was 10 days shy of my 55th birthday. I hope you will come to Dothan again soon.
Marcia W MacLean - February 15, 2017 2:15 pm
I have recently “discovered” you….And loo
Marcia W MacLean - February 15, 2017 2:19 pm
I have recently “discovered” you and look forward to each new posts. This is a beautiful story. You are blessed to have each other.
Kay Keel - February 15, 2017 4:35 pm
It’s beautiful when you find the part of you that was missing! We been married almost 33 years now.
Ramona Conn - February 17, 2017 6:13 pm
Lovely story. Couldn’t help noticing that you were in Port St. Joe, this is my neck of the woods now! After my retirement I moved to a small, SMALL town near there, Apalachicola. I realized that I am now right smack dab in the middle of a “Life change”. That’s what happens when you thought you were from a small town then realize you weren’t. I was from Dothan Alabama and moved to Apalachicola to be closer to my sister. I’ve been here since April and I’m still losing my big city ways … I tend to take off for a few days without telling my village where I’m headed and when I’ll be back. Big mistake. I’m not a drinker so that turns heads when we’re on the Gibson porch on Fridays or Wednesday’s. I don’t spill my life details so people think I’m mysterious and have something to hide. I don’t mean harm, but I’m learning. I have decided that I’m very lucky to live here. Before moving there was only me and my sister. Now it’s me and my sister and every 3rd person in town! And Sean, its growing on me. They call this part of Florida The Forgotten coast. I think they come here to hide. To enjoy life at a pace that’s long forgotten. Where people are genuinely interested in me and my life. People here keep your secrets, take you to lunch in sunny little parks, bring food when you’re sick, talk among themselves about who FELL DRUNK last night and where the late nite police officers hang out around the bars to see who needs a ride home. Yes sir, this area has amazing people who love hard … its. It not always easy, but they’re GROWING on me!
Pat Davis - March 9, 2017 1:53 pm
You are mighty close to perfect.
Laura - February 14, 2018 11:25 am
My husband and I say that everyday we are together is Valentine’s Day!! Blessed we are…and not many people get IT. My auntie and uncle were married this day 47 years ago and she just passed 3 weeks ago. My heart breaks for him…they were quite a pair. I keep telling him the reason it hurts so much is because they had IT. The rare gift shared by those who deeply find their truest love. He smiles cause he knows and wouldn’t trade the pain of missing her for missing out on such a love. I hope I can be as brave as he. ❤️❤️
Linda - February 14, 2018 11:28 am
Happy Valentines to you and your lovely wife! You compliment each other perfectly!
Kathy Grey - February 15, 2018 1:44 am
❤️❤️
Charaleen Wright - April 5, 2019 4:29 am
❤