Photo courtesy of The Orange County Register

As I was sitting in my Starbucks office, typing away on my laptop, a sweet woman tapped me on the shoulder and, pointing at my necklace, asked, “Is that your son?”

“Yes,” I smiled, leaving it at that.

“Is that his age now or was that picture taken awhile ago?”

Taking a deep breath, always unsure how someone might respond, “Well, he actually passed away.”

Tears welled up in her eyes.

“I lost my daughter when she was 3 years old.  She would be 53.”  A tear trickled down her cheek.  “It’s been 50 years and I can still grieve like it was yesterday.”

Touching her hand with tears now filling my eyes, “Oh how I pray you have the gift of seeing her again.”

Putting her other hand on top of mine with a smile that spoke volumes, “It won’t be long now.”

Hope.

Author: Christina