Proof The Bible Is True

It’s time, my mom thought. I need to visit him. But it’s so hard.

 

My father, Vern, had passed away a year ago, but his presence in our lives had always been so big, it still felt as if he should be dropping by any minute. A preacher, he had long been our family’s spiritual compass. Mom called him her “bear,” and it described Dad perfectly. He was a big, beefy man—and once he made up his mind to do something, he couldn’t be stopped. When his health started failing, he was determined above all else to live long enough to celebrate his fiftieth wedding anniversary. He lived two more years after that, yet we all still missed him. Mom hadn’t been able to return to Dad’s grave since the funeral. I was glad when she told me she was finally ready now.

 

Mom called a dear friend to take her shopping for things to take to Dad’s grave. She bought an assortment of party balloons—and one that was special. A heart-shaped balloon with a picture of a teddy bear, over the words, “I Love You Beary Much.”

 

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