I remember my first kiss with Patty. We had been dating for several months, and we had already set our wedding date, and I had not yet kissed her. She said that she didn’t want me to kiss her until the big, ugly, cold sore she had on her lip was gone. It was big and ugly and took a long time to heal!! She told me that she would tell me when it was completely healed. We were sitting in the TV room in the “Student Union” building at college, watching “Mission Impossible” in “black and white,” and she passed me a small piece of paper with three little words on it, “It is healed.” I remember that kiss clearly as if it were yesterday; an electric current went through my whole body! I have kissed Patty millions of times since April 3rd, 1969, and I don’t remember most of them; why?
Most of us don’t really remember much in our past because of the vast number of events and experiences we have all had. People have often told me that I have had a lot of fun and exciting experiences. I haven’t had any more than others; I just remember them. I remember them because I have written them down and retold them often. What I write, I reread. What gets reviewed gets remembered. Another great way to remember the past is to look at photographs of past events. That is so much easier now with cell phones than when I was a kid with my big bulky “Brownie Camera,” which cost a fortune to buy and develop the film for. I would keep rolls of film for months before I could afford to have it developed.
I reread my journal entries regularly and go through my picture albums often because I enjoy reliving the past and being reminded that my life has been planned and orchestrated by God.
I think that when we get to heaven we will remember everything in great detail. We will remember it all with perfect insight. I think that we will spend a large part of eternity retelling all of our memories. Even the bad memories won’t seem bad anymore as we are reminded of God’s grace, mercy, provision, guidance, and protection. I also think that I will have a perfect cup of coffee in my hands as I listen to your stories and tell you mine.
Pastor Dee's Blog 
Not often enough, but on extremely important occasions I am literally FORCED to reply to your blogs. I came catastrophically close to missing this one and I’m so so glad I didn’t.
So do I ever remember my first kiss with my wife and sadly enough I also remember our last kiss. Isn’t it funny how that works? I had been madly in love with my (Now Raptured) wife for at least 2-3 years. However, she wouldn’t give me the time of day; in fact I have always referred to it as the years she HATED me. Then suddenly she came to my High School graduation and gave me a kiss. Yes Dee, the kiss I will never forget. I asked her, “What’s that all about?” From that kiss forward I never looked or thought about another girl and she could never tell me why, but she never looked at another boy. That was in June of 1969.
Sadly the last kiss came 54 years later, just before she departed this location for a much better one. I was tucking her into her “newly acquired hospice” bed, situated right across from the one we’d slept together in for well over 25 years. She grabbed my shirt, pulled me to her face and gave me a kiss reminiscent of the one 54 years ago. I asked her the same question I’d asked her on that first kiss: “What’s that all about?” Her reply was a very simple, “I love you!” Those were to be her last real words to me and the rest of the story isn’t quite as joyful as those few moments in time. But God in his Mercy and Grace has granted me those three words to remember until we meet again, so to speak.
As I tore thru all our old albums of youth, vigor, motorcycle trips, family trips and all the gatherings we had together, I pulled all those photos out from beneath the faded plastic and purchased about 15 nicely framed cork boards. They are hanging on my shop walls, in my bedroom, in my office, our guest bedroom, and I have them enshrined on her favorite hutches, our entry and on top of the piano. I gifted the other 25 otherwise now torn apart albums to our three children to do with what they wish. You see I never need to open another album to see my bride. She’s with me everywhere I go. I miss her like I never knew I could and love her more today than I ever thought I would. Hold onto your precious wife and tell her you love her often. And always just one more kiss! You never know if it’s your last.
That may be the most meaningful message in a long time, Sir. I’m weeping with every word I write.
Thank you.
Ken Bentz
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Thank you for that nice, heart felt reply to my blog.
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