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.”