Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Gingie's younger sister, Lloyd, and I were seeing each other regularly and I had aspirations. But at a certain point I decided it wasn't going to work. Lloyd loved dancing and I was a klutz. She enjoyed tennis and golf and my double-vision did not go well with either. I finally told her we should call it quits. I then wandered all over Washington DC, even communing with Lincoln's statue, telling myself I was probably making the biggest mistake of my life.
Meanwhile, Lloyd called Gingie, all upset. Ever the pratical one, Gingie's first question had nothing to do with love or anything like that. She wanted to know whether I was leaving town. Informed I wasn't, she then asssured Lloyd that such bumps in the road occurred all the time in a courtship. "Call him up," Gingie said, "and tell him the two of you should get together and talk. "
The phone was ringing shortly after I finally got back to my apartment. I have no idea exactly what Lloyd said. -- except that we should get together and talk. It was enough for me to know that Lloyd truly cared. We were back on track. So Gingie played a key role in getting me, for 53 wonderful years, the best thing that happened to me in my entire life.
