my heart danced!
i grabbed john's hand and (with a smile that extended from my right ear to my left) nodded toward the man. john glanced the way of the fellow... he looked. after a moment he too smiled acknowledging he knew exactly what i was thinking.
"he looks just like mosses," i whispered.
"a lot!" john agreed.
i noticed the fella wearing a suit that was no longer tailored to his shrunken body, his shiny.thinning.white.hair, his metal rimmed glasses, and that his body was crooked...
brought on by time and arthritis.
a few moments later, the receptionist summoned the fellow. i was actually familiar with his rather uncommon surname.
i recalled a farm in my hometown,
owned by a man with the same last name as the one she called.
when he completed his wife's paperwork, he arose and made his way over to the vending machines. as he passed me i noticed that he even had a bowed-out leg like mosses (more than likely stemming from a 1980's knee replacement)... uncanny!
so uncanny, in fact, that i took out my cell phone and snapped a photo of him.
when i did so, i noticed even his hair grew in the same direction as mosses did...
noticing he needed help, one of my aunts offered to help him purchase chips and a soda. he thanked her and proceeded back to his seat. as he passed me, i said his name, "mr. m...?" he stopped and looked at me. "is your name mr. m...?" i asked.
"well, yes it is," he replied.
"are you from henderson?," i inquired.
(we were at a hospital in a neighboring city.)
"yes, i am," he answered with a twinkle in his eye.
"i am too. my name is dani berrong," i introduced myself.
i reached out and placed my hand atop his hand.
it felt sweetly familiar...
"did you ever know george moss?" i asked.
"well, as a matter of fact i do know george. back in the day, we played many a poker game," he said and grinned.
what a small world!
"mr. moss was my dearest friend:) i just stopped you because you remind me so much of him."
he chuckled, "do you think so? how is george getting along?"
"oh, mr. m..., mr. moss died several years ago," i replied with regret.
my heart sank a little.
"he did? i'm so sorry. i don't think i knew that. george was a good friend... " he stood for a moment thinking, "when you get old, you just lose touch, i guess," he lowered his chin.
i smiled and patted his hand, "thank you for taking the time to stop and talk to me. it was so nice to meet you!"
we then exchanged good wishes for each other's respective loved ones.
i am so thankful that i had this chance meeting.
i am thankful for all things that remind me of mosses...
love and God's blessings,
ps you will find earlier entries in ascending order on my side bar entitled, "our love story":)