My husband does not remember meeting me for the first time.
How’s that for an intro?
Jim and I met in 1999. He lived in Klamath Falls and I was in Riddle, a 3 hour drive away. I lived in Riddle with my dad but came to Klamath Falls to stay an occasional weekend with my mom and step-dad Bob. Bob had told me about Jim a few times. He was his 8th grade art teacher and loved how talented Jim was in drawing and singing. One time he brought home a print of one of Jim’s drawings. He said “this is by Jimmy Weaver, that guy I was telling you about.” I admired the incredibly detailed large print of a pencil drawn elk bugling in a river. “He’s your age.”
I’m sure at that point my mouth dropped completely as my eyes went to the drawing again for a closer look. Even today, as much of our house is decorated with beautifully framed originals (I’ve got the original of that drawing on my living room wall!), I am amazed at the talent that he has in drawing wildlife.
One morning at church, Bob noticed Jim was attending and introduced the two of us. Jim was singing on the worship team that day and I remember just watching him singing and noticing a different “look” about him that I am yet to see on another face. Was that love at first sight? Probably not, but its definitely something that I remember. Unlike my husband. Ahem…
It was almost two years later the next time I saw Jimmy Weaver.
During the fall season of 2000, I had just begun my senior year in high school and was preparing for a Youth Rally. It was going to be a big gathering of several youth groups in the county. The night before, some of the youth leadership and I went to the church in Roseburg where the rally was going to take place to get together with other leaders and pray over the event. Someone mentioned that a band from Klamath Falls was coming to lead a worship concert. The mention of Klamath Falls caught my attention because that was where my mom lived.
It wasn’t until the band took the stage at the rally that I recognized the young man leading the group. I must have looked like an idiot with my sudden excitement.
“That’s Jimmy Weaver!” I said to my friends around me. “I know him!” Its pretty comical to me now, because he didn’t know me from...Eve.
Weeks later, I was visiting my mom in Klamath Falls again. My best friend Nicki came with me too. We were casually drinking iced tea at the dining room table on a Saturday afternoon when I see you-know-who walking down the street.
“That’s Jimmy Weaver!” I was about to become some crazy stalker. My mom helped.
“You should go on after him!” she said. I guess its ok to be a crazy stalker if you have your mom’s permission.
Nicki and I ditched the iced tea and got our coats on and rushed outside as fast as we (I) could. We started walking down the sidewalk after him, but he was already quite a bit ahead of us. I wasn’t sure how this was all going to end, because, yeah, I would follow a guy down the street, but I wasn’t going to look like some kind of idiot and actually RUN after him!
We walked a little faster.
Luckily, he had reached the end of the street and, instead of going around the corner, he turned around and started walking toward us.
Now, what was I supposed to do? We were getting closer to each other with every step and soon I would have to figure out what to do next. Am I really going to talk to this guy that probably doesn’t remember me? Or should I just keep walking on like I had some place to go? I’m really not one to start conversations with people on the street (I just follow them, apparently). It really must have been a God thing that I had enough bravery to say something once we got close enough to talk to each other.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Do you remember me?”
“......Should I?”
Awkward...but this is really what happened! I told him who my mom was, and luckily he did know her! And also, he was able to get a closer look at my “stalker tendencies.”
“Wait, are you the one that saw me up in Roseburg?”
“Yeah!”
It was a bit of a relief to have something to talk about as I walked him back to my mom’s house. He came in for a few minutes to visit with my mom and Bob.
Now, I do have to thank my mom for prodding me a bit more. When I was back home in Riddle, she encouraged me to write him a letter and she would give it to him at church. So I did. I was able to give him my email address and was SO relieved to receive an email from him a few days later. Now things were getting serious! I could move from the “stalker” category to “there’s a mutual curiousity here” category.
We started emailing and chatting online. (This is before cell phones were owned by a majority of teenagers.) I began visiting my mom a lot more frequently.
We got together with groups of people when I visited Klamath. We spoke for hours on the phone. He asked me to his school’s Winter Formal. I said yes, of course! The night before we went to the formal, I asked him about our relationship. It was pretty mutual that we wanted to start dating.
So we carried on a long distance relationship for the rest of the school year. I moved to Klamath after graduating, and Jim broke up with me later that week.
Now, don’t worry, obviously we worked it out! What we really needed was time to grow closer together as friends. We kind of skipped that part when we started dating. It was about a year and a half later, on November 28, 2002, that Jim asked me to be his girlfriend again.
Jim had been helping someone with a senior project which involved drawing a portrait. As an example, he had drawn a picture of me. It was Tuesday evening, March 25, 2003 when Jim asked me to stay with him to lock up the church after the youth group we were helping to lead. I had a feeling something was up. Not much gets by me, especially with him! He asked me to wait for him at the altar.
As he went out to his car to “get something” I looked down at the bare ring finger on my left hand. Was there going to be something on it soon?
He came back into the sanctuary and dimmed the lights. He came down the aisle with his pad of paper and a rose.
“I made an adjustment to your picture.” He handed me his pad of paper and I turned back the cover to reveal my portrait. I had seen it a few times over the last couple of weeks. It was drawn from a picture I had given him. In the picture, my fingers were entwined with my head resting on them at an angle. I knew what the adjustment would be, and it caught my eye right off the bat. There it was, on my left hand: a diamond ring.
As I looked up from the picture, Jim was on one knee. For the first time, he told me that he loved me and asked me to marry him. (There was more to it than that, but I don’t remember it!) I said yes!
Our engagement was probably the most heart wrenching time of my life. A long string of events began just after that night that shook us to the very core and established the bond that we have today. Getting married was the one thing that helped me get through that tough time.
We got married on August 24, 2003. Our wedding day was truly amazing. My face hurt from smiling. Jim and I got to share our first kiss surrounded by our friends and family. I became a Weaver. Jimmy Weaver’s wife. I got him. I love him more than I could ever say in words.
How’s that for an intro?
Jim and I met in 1999. He lived in Klamath Falls and I was in Riddle, a 3 hour drive away. I lived in Riddle with my dad but came to Klamath Falls to stay an occasional weekend with my mom and step-dad Bob. Bob had told me about Jim a few times. He was his 8th grade art teacher and loved how talented Jim was in drawing and singing. One time he brought home a print of one of Jim’s drawings. He said “this is by Jimmy Weaver, that guy I was telling you about.” I admired the incredibly detailed large print of a pencil drawn elk bugling in a river. “He’s your age.”
I’m sure at that point my mouth dropped completely as my eyes went to the drawing again for a closer look. Even today, as much of our house is decorated with beautifully framed originals (I’ve got the original of that drawing on my living room wall!), I am amazed at the talent that he has in drawing wildlife.
One morning at church, Bob noticed Jim was attending and introduced the two of us. Jim was singing on the worship team that day and I remember just watching him singing and noticing a different “look” about him that I am yet to see on another face. Was that love at first sight? Probably not, but its definitely something that I remember. Unlike my husband. Ahem…
It was almost two years later the next time I saw Jimmy Weaver.
During the fall season of 2000, I had just begun my senior year in high school and was preparing for a Youth Rally. It was going to be a big gathering of several youth groups in the county. The night before, some of the youth leadership and I went to the church in Roseburg where the rally was going to take place to get together with other leaders and pray over the event. Someone mentioned that a band from Klamath Falls was coming to lead a worship concert. The mention of Klamath Falls caught my attention because that was where my mom lived.
It wasn’t until the band took the stage at the rally that I recognized the young man leading the group. I must have looked like an idiot with my sudden excitement.
“That’s Jimmy Weaver!” I said to my friends around me. “I know him!” Its pretty comical to me now, because he didn’t know me from...Eve.
Weeks later, I was visiting my mom in Klamath Falls again. My best friend Nicki came with me too. We were casually drinking iced tea at the dining room table on a Saturday afternoon when I see you-know-who walking down the street.
“That’s Jimmy Weaver!” I was about to become some crazy stalker. My mom helped.
“You should go on after him!” she said. I guess its ok to be a crazy stalker if you have your mom’s permission.
Nicki and I ditched the iced tea and got our coats on and rushed outside as fast as we (I) could. We started walking down the sidewalk after him, but he was already quite a bit ahead of us. I wasn’t sure how this was all going to end, because, yeah, I would follow a guy down the street, but I wasn’t going to look like some kind of idiot and actually RUN after him!
We walked a little faster.
Luckily, he had reached the end of the street and, instead of going around the corner, he turned around and started walking toward us.
Now, what was I supposed to do? We were getting closer to each other with every step and soon I would have to figure out what to do next. Am I really going to talk to this guy that probably doesn’t remember me? Or should I just keep walking on like I had some place to go? I’m really not one to start conversations with people on the street (I just follow them, apparently). It really must have been a God thing that I had enough bravery to say something once we got close enough to talk to each other.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Do you remember me?”
“......Should I?”
Awkward...but this is really what happened! I told him who my mom was, and luckily he did know her! And also, he was able to get a closer look at my “stalker tendencies.”
“Wait, are you the one that saw me up in Roseburg?”
“Yeah!”
It was a bit of a relief to have something to talk about as I walked him back to my mom’s house. He came in for a few minutes to visit with my mom and Bob.
Now, I do have to thank my mom for prodding me a bit more. When I was back home in Riddle, she encouraged me to write him a letter and she would give it to him at church. So I did. I was able to give him my email address and was SO relieved to receive an email from him a few days later. Now things were getting serious! I could move from the “stalker” category to “there’s a mutual curiousity here” category.
We started emailing and chatting online. (This is before cell phones were owned by a majority of teenagers.) I began visiting my mom a lot more frequently.
We got together with groups of people when I visited Klamath. We spoke for hours on the phone. He asked me to his school’s Winter Formal. I said yes, of course! The night before we went to the formal, I asked him about our relationship. It was pretty mutual that we wanted to start dating.
So we carried on a long distance relationship for the rest of the school year. I moved to Klamath after graduating, and Jim broke up with me later that week.
Now, don’t worry, obviously we worked it out! What we really needed was time to grow closer together as friends. We kind of skipped that part when we started dating. It was about a year and a half later, on November 28, 2002, that Jim asked me to be his girlfriend again.
Jim had been helping someone with a senior project which involved drawing a portrait. As an example, he had drawn a picture of me. It was Tuesday evening, March 25, 2003 when Jim asked me to stay with him to lock up the church after the youth group we were helping to lead. I had a feeling something was up. Not much gets by me, especially with him! He asked me to wait for him at the altar.
As he went out to his car to “get something” I looked down at the bare ring finger on my left hand. Was there going to be something on it soon?
He came back into the sanctuary and dimmed the lights. He came down the aisle with his pad of paper and a rose.
“I made an adjustment to your picture.” He handed me his pad of paper and I turned back the cover to reveal my portrait. I had seen it a few times over the last couple of weeks. It was drawn from a picture I had given him. In the picture, my fingers were entwined with my head resting on them at an angle. I knew what the adjustment would be, and it caught my eye right off the bat. There it was, on my left hand: a diamond ring.
As I looked up from the picture, Jim was on one knee. For the first time, he told me that he loved me and asked me to marry him. (There was more to it than that, but I don’t remember it!) I said yes!
Our engagement was probably the most heart wrenching time of my life. A long string of events began just after that night that shook us to the very core and established the bond that we have today. Getting married was the one thing that helped me get through that tough time.
We got married on August 24, 2003. Our wedding day was truly amazing. My face hurt from smiling. Jim and I got to share our first kiss surrounded by our friends and family. I became a Weaver. Jimmy Weaver’s wife. I got him. I love him more than I could ever say in words.