He smelled like familiar aftershave. White-haired with a shaky smile. He didn't mind my personal query and comments.
"May I ask, what aftershave do you wear? You smell like my dad. He'll be 80 next week and he's been sick for a long time. I really miss him...." my voice caught in my throat.
How embarrassing to act this way in front of a total stranger.
He wasn't phased a bit.
He put his hand on my arm and quietly said, "I'm 81 and you know, I thank God every day for my health. It is a gift."
1 comment:
Neither Time nor Eternity will be able to pry the smell of his aftershave out of my mind. Although some of the memories have dimmed a smidge.
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