𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 AND LOVE THAT NEVER FADES:

Did you read the caption on the pic?

Did you see it?

Because I saw it!

I saw a bear! IYKYK

It was an encounter years in the making.

I would give anything to tell my Jimmy.

I would love for him to know that his girl finally saw what had eluded her for nearly a decade.

We often went to the mountains for Jimmy’s study retreats and sermon prep, and, as time went on, the anticipation took on a life of its own. I wanted so badly to see a bear. The locals often regaled us with stories of their own bear sightings, so with each visit, I wondered, “Will this be the time it actually happens?”

My longing to see a bear, in the face of such failure and futility, had become lore. There were even those who added it to their prayer lists on my behalf!

At various times while in the mountains, I floated ideas that might increase our chances for success, like, perhaps, leaving food out to attract them. That suggestion was immediately vetoed. “Baby, they’re wild animals, not pets!”

I proposed climbing onto the roof with a flashlight, assuring me an excellent vantage point in the event one happened to visit during the night. That request was vetoed even more emphatically than the first one.

On one occasion, our much-maligned little Sophie had accompanied us, and with Jimmy none the wiser, I sprinkled a bit of her kibble in the yard surrounding the cabin. (BTW, he talked a big game where Sophie was concerned.) Lest you believe otherwise, he loved that baby, in spite of the fact that she was the reason he fell down the stairs and got hurt.

Jimmy frequently used her in sermon illustrations, bemoaning her willful attitude and dimwitted demeanor, but I want you to know he spoke baby talk with her all the time. He sang songs to her and made videos of her almost daily, and grieved her terribly when we lost her at the age of eleven, but, alas, I digress.

Back to the story: The kibble failed to attract any bears, but it did make Sophie take forever to potty. Jimmy, not knowing what I had done, repeatedly called her to come in, but she refused, either unwilling or unable to tear herself away from the goodies she discovered.

Exasperated, I heard Jimmy mumble about how “stupid” she was. I advocated for Sophie and admitted my misdeeds to Jimmy knowing full well that his frustration with her would never spill over onto me. I was his girl, after all.

I learned my lesson, but also informed Jimmy that it wasn’t Sophie’s fault that she couldn’t resist the “dogfood manna” that had suddenly appeared. I explained that she was merely availing herself to the miraculous, unexpected provision hidden among the grass.

Meanwhile, there she stayed. I wish you could have seen her, walking around in circles, nose to the ground, nibbling every few steps.

Regarding the bears, it never mattered much to Jimmy if he saw one or not. It mattered very much to him if I did.

On one of our trips, I remained at the cabin while Jimmy drove into town for groceries, and, wouldn’t you know it, the one time I didn’t go, he rounded a curve and immediately came face to face with a big one right in the middle of the road.

When he got back, arms laden with groceries, he seemed genuinely sad that he had been the one to see it. As a matter of fact, he quickly followed his announcement with an apology, bless his heart.

What a precious man my Jimmy Carroll was. He would have given me the world if he could have. I would have been happy simply to grow old with him.

Jimmy tried that day to get a picture of the bear, and, Friday, so did I. But we were both much too flustered, and the bears, much too quick and cautious.

I finally saw a bear, and Jimmy was all I could think about.

Months ago, I had rented a place a few hours from home, timing it to coincide with our wedding anniversary. My sister and her husband, Jerry, joined me for part of it, so we eagerly set out Friday evening in search of the bears that frequent farmland not far from where we are staying.

We drove slowly, scanning the fields and along the tree lines, wondering if this might finally be my night.

And then it happened.

There, in the distance, was a bear.

A big, black bear lumbering slowly across the road.

After years of hoping.

After countless schemes and searches.

After one very patient husband who had somehow managed to see a bear himself and then felt guilty about it because I had not.

I saw a bear!

And as soon as I did, I thought of my Jimmy and how happy he would be for me.

I finally saw a bear.

And somehow, after all those years of wanting to see one so badly, what I wanted most in that moment was to turn to Jimmy and say, “You’re never going to believe this, love, but I finally saw one.”

I wish more than anything I could tell him.

But I’d like to think that maybe, in some mysterious way, he already knows.

Only a breath separates this life from the next, after all. The veil is thin indeed.

So maybe, beyond what I can see, my sweet Jimmy is still rooting for his girl. Still cheering me on. Still delighted by the things that delight me. Still getting a kick out of this woman he loved so well, who once considered climbing onto a cabin roof with a flashlight in search of a bear.

Hey, Jimmy.

I saw a bear, my love.

I finally saw a bear.

And you were present for it all.

PS. For each message of love on Wednesday, and each prayer whispered on my behalf, thank you.

I read each and every one and felt the impact of each prayer.

Peace reigned and joy broke through.

You were God’s tangible grace to me.

Your love bolstered and carried me.

Thank you.

Jimmy would be so grateful for you.

I know I certainly am.