Red Food Coloring.
Shouldn’t be hard to find. I was in the grocery store aisle where there were cake/pie/bakery goods—
they had sprinkles and crushed nuts and ground up chocolate chips—
of course there would be Red Food Coloring there. . . .
I couldn’t find it–
anywhere so I did what it at least took me fifteen minutes to do:
I A S K E D !
“M I K E”
was very accommodating in assisting me;
in fact, M I K E
didn’t TELL ME WHERE TO GO…
M I K E
walked me down to exactly where the Red Food Coloring was placed on the shelf.
He reached up on the shelf, took it and handed it to me and then before I could ever say,
“Thank you,”
M I K E thanked me.
“You were so great at the funeral of my dad. It was such a rough time for us and never having met him, you made it so personal–it’s was like you knew him forever. I can’t thank you enough.”
Again, before I had a chance to respond, M I K E continued you on.
“Things haven’t gotten a whole lot better since then. My wife’s mom died and our, I mean, her daughter, who’s only 32 is now on Hospice. She’s dying. She’s been staying at our house with her 8 year son. Her husband kicked her out of the house and moved his girlfriend in–he’s still sending people around because he thinks she’s lying about the cancer thing. . .
I still had done nothing more than square up and look him in the teary eyes. I nodded and said the deep, profound, highly theological gruntings of,
“Uh-Huh,” “Ohhh,” “Really?”
“But in spite of it all, I don’t think my wife and I have ever been closer. We’re really pulling in the same direction right now like we’ve never had before. Even her dad has been coming by now for the first time since she’s graduated from college.”
With no breath fully taken or care for who’s around us or that his red vest and name tag, M I K E
were in full view of all who were coming down the aisle and dodging us, he said,
“And even right now,
(HE GULPED AND BREATHED HARD) “
“THIS, THIS is no accident. I needed to have you here today, and here, HERE you are! I know this sounds crazy, but man, it’s just like Easter happened all over again. . . .”
right here, right now. . .
just when I needed it. You know, it’s people like you that makes me know that things are going to be ok even though there’s just no proof to back it up. Man, I’m so glad you showed up today. Thank You. Gotta go unload a truck now. Happy Easter!”
Confession:
I don’t remember his father at all !
I don’t believe I can tell you the day, week, month I conducted his Memorial Services. . .
it was in 2015 though
(only because he said a lot has happened this past year).
I do, just barely remember MIKE
because of running into him one other time before at the grocery store very shortly after the Funeral.
He was right:
“IT’S JUST LIKE EASTER ALL OVER AGAIN,”
right there in front of the hard to find/see Food Coloring.
What are the odds?
I don’t know. . .
but I was better having been there
THAT day at
THAT time in
THAT aisle for
THAT reason—
whatever the odds. . .
Bet’em!
Could be right down your aisle, too!
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