I was running out of time, and my heart was still telling me that there was something
more I could do.
On February 14, Valentine’s Day, Jamie picked out a passage from Corinthians that
meant a lot to her. She told me that if she’d ever had the chance, it was the passage she’d
wanted read at her wedding. This is what it said:
Love is always patient and kind. It is never jealous.
Love is never boastful or conceited. It is never rude or
selfish. It does not take offense and is not resentful.
Love takes no pleasure in other people’s sins, but
delights in the truth. It is always ready to excuse, to
trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes.
Jamie was the truest essence of that very description.
Three days later, when the temperature slightly warmed, I showed her something
wonderful, something I doubted she’d ever seen before, something I knew she would want
to see.
Eastern North Carolina is a beautiful and special part of the country, blessed with
temperate weather and, for the most part, wonderful geography. Nowhere is this more
evident than Bogue Banks, an island right off the coast, near the place we grew up.
Twenty-four miles long and nearly a mile wide, this island is a fluke of nature, running
from east to west, hugging the coastline a half mile offshore. Those who live there can
witness spectacular sunrises and sunsets every day of the year, both taking place over the
expanse of the mighty Atlantic Ocean.
Jamie was bundled up heavily, standing beside me on the edge of the Iron Steamer
Pier as this perfect southern evening descended. I pointed off into the distance and told her
to wait. I could see our breaths, two of hers to every one of mine. I had to support Jamie as
we stood there—she seemed lighter than the leaves of a tree that had fallen in autumn—
but I knew that it would be worth it.
In time the glowing, cratered moon began its seeming rise from the sea, casting a
prism of light across the slowly darkening water, splitting itself into a thousand different
parts, each more beautiful than the last. At exactly the same moment, the sun was meeting
the horizon in the opposite direction, turning the sky red and orange and yellow, as if
heaven above had suddenly opened its gates and let all its beauty escape its holy confines.
The ocean turned golden silver as the shifting colors reflected off it, waters rippling and
sparkling with the changing light, the vision glorious, almost like the beginning of time.
The sun continued to lower itself, casting its glow as far as the eye could see, before
finally, slowly, vanishing beneath the waves. The moon continued its slow drift upward,