GAYLE - GONE SEVEN YEARS TODAY

My sister Gayle

I love Gayle, and I still miss her, and I expect I always will. The picture shows her getting ready for a party, and Gayle loved parties. She's wearing a tuxedo, which was the style for women some years ago.  Gayle and Frank, her husband, came to visit us, and apparently we were to attend a party.  When she unpacked her tux, I said, "Gayle, come see."  I went to my closet and took out a nearly identical tuxedo.  Too funny.  If I remember correctly, we did not wear our tuxedos to the same party.

Gayle was the person closest to me whom I've lost.  I love my mother, but we were not really close, although we were together quite a lot.  She was a good mother and, in many ways, a strong woman, as good as she could be under the adverse conditions of our family life as we were growing up, but she was emotionally distant.  My youngest sister died too young.  I love her, too, but for many years she was estranged from our family, so when she died, I grieved, especially that we were out of touch for so many years, but I didn't miss her constant presence.  I finally forgave my father before he died, but to say we were in any way close would be a lie.  We were on speaking terms, and that's the good news.  There you have our family life.

Though Gayle lived in Kansas City, we were in touch nearly every day, either by phone or by email.  I'd guess we would be communicating on Facebook if she was alive today.  I think of her often and wish so much that we could talk.  Gayle's husband, Frank, and her children, Donna, Gretchen, and Eric miss her presence, too.

Rather than resting in peace, I hope Gayle is partying in the great beyond.  I wrote the poem below on the anniversary of her death five years ago.  

Why Couldn't You Stay?

You walked away; you left us
Bereft, bereaved.
How could you go?
It wasn't your doing,
I know, I know.
Yet, how could you go?

Two years passed and gone,
Slipped away.
After you left, I'd think
I'll call her; I'll email.
Oh no! None of that!
You won't answer.

Now I know you're gone.
No thoughts of visits to come,
Seeing your face, hearing your voice,
The sound of your laughter.
Sadness lingers, emptiness remains.
Why couldn't you stay?

June Butler - 04-27-08

The photo above was taken in the Tower of London when Gayle and I traveled together a good many years ago.  The picture makes me sad, but it's the perfect metaphor for me for her death.  She was full of life, and she would have wanted more time, as we all would have wanted more time with her, but go she did.  God bless us every one.