December 2015
Billie Silvey
His Special
Frank and I hold hands as we celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary in the Fellowship Hall
of the Culver Palms Church of Christ in 2013.  The tables are decorated with bouquets of
"Seven Daffodils," the song Frank sang and played for me on his guitar, together with photos
of us at various stages in our life together.   Associate Minister Ron Cox takes photos (left).
My first day at Abilene Christian College, I caught a glimpse of Frank
Silvey, and I was so intrigued, I determined to meet and marry him.  
On August 25, 2013, we celebrated our 50th anniversary, and every
day since, I thank God for the blessing of his presence in my life.

His grandmother told him he was special, and he is.  He is especially
kind and caring, especially intelligent and sensitive, especially aware
of the beauty of language and of music.

His is a calm and measured presence, systematic in contrast with my
more slapdash approach.  He has a  logical mind, having studied
philosophy at UCLA.

He's the member of our family with the best computer skills, having
pioneered with technological training with IBM.

He does what needs to be done: he cares for our family, he cares for
our house, he cares for our property, he provides for our needs.  He
has particularly cared for me since I've been ill.   

His steel-trap mind is essential when I'm forgetful, especially when it
comes to taking my pills.  He keeps track of medicines,
appointments, and directions to various doctors' offices.  I don't know
what I'd do without him.

He loves us all, but particularly our granddaughter Katyana, who has
inherited his love for singing.

Frank is a member of two local singing groups.  One, Mansfield
Chamber Singers, is directed by UCLA psychiatrist Ken Wells and
sang for our anniversary.  The other, Oriana, sings madrigals and
gives a holiday program at a local hospital.
A diamond may be forever, but a plain gold band
works pretty well.  I've worn mine day and night
since I got it in 1963.  In fact, I've only had it off
once, when I had to get an MRI and couldn't wear
any metal.  I felt naked without it, and couldn't wait
to get it back on.