The Face of a Stranger

I was shopping in Kroger with my 3 littles, and we were heading back to grab some distilled water.  I had completely forgotten the item, and so I was excited to have had a moment of memory.  As we were carting it back to the water section there was a snafoo with a woman and her product-laiden cart who was blocking the entrance to the section I needed to get to.  We waited patiently (my kids were actually doing good at this point - phew!).  She moved, and then we ran into an older gentleman.

His hair was silver, his eyes kind, his accent thick.  Even though I knew it wasn't the man who is one of the people I would bring back from the dead to have dinner with (Don't you usually come across that question in some small group/get-to-know-you setting?), he reminded me so much of my Grandpa.  Even as I write this, I can't help but cry.  Thankfully my son is busy trying to find a show on the Wii... he usually comes and tries to make it better when I cry.  Anyways, side note.

When the man said hello as we crossed paths briefly, the softness in his southern accent was so similar to my Grandpa's.  It took me back to all of those times he would call me in college with his "Tam????" that made my roomates laugh, and made me smile.  I could hear it.  It has been so many years since I last heard his voice.

He also had creases that shaped his face much like my Grandpa.  His eyes were so kind with a hint of laughter behind them.  It was like he was here.

I miss him so dearly.  He was a man who had so much faith and trust in me.  He was so kind, funny, and loved deeply.  It tears me up when I think about how he missed meeting Jon, and he never met the kids.

This stranger has no idea how much he made my day, and apparently by the signs of me trying to fight back the tears that keep sneaking out of my eyes, my days since.

I have a picture of my Grandpa and I up in my room.  It is from a trip I took to see him when he was healthy.  He grew very sick the year I met Jon and died not too long after that.

This stranger gave me something no picture filled with memories, or a letter can offer.  He gave me a taste of experiencing my Grandpa.  My ears got to hear something like his voice that brought back so many memories where I could imagine his voice again.  My eyes got to see what was so close to his eyes, his smile, and face that when I look at the pictures I can almost see him come to life again.

To love someone so deeply is to afford yourself to hurt so deeply.  In this brief moment with the stranger I have encountered both love and hurt all at once as I remember my Grandpa.

The stranger was doing nothing more than simply being at the supermarket. He did nothing spectacular.  However, he did so much.  He gave me a gift.  He gave me the ability to not just remember in memory, but to almost remember as if my Grandpa were still alive.  I am so grateful for this gift... even if this type of remembrance produces splotches all over my face from crying.

Below is a pic of my last visit with him, and my aunt Charlotte and two of her kids.