Tuesday, June 9, 2015

Brief Encounter

Sunday night after Margaret's soccer game, we were looking for a place to pick up dinner. We ended up going to Jack's favorite restaurant, a Greek place, where we hadn't gone in a few years because Margaret doesn't like it (we picked up dinner for her at the Taco Bell drive-thru).

Tim went into the small restaurant to order. While he was waiting, an adorable 4 year old boy, eating dinner with his mom, ran up to him and hugged him around his legs saying, "Daddy! Daddy!" This caught Tim off guard, but it was still so sweet. The mother smiled and said, "I guess you really look like a Dad."

We have many memories in that restaurant, centering around our own sweet boy and his love of a good gyro. This is a new memory to enjoy.

I'd have to agree, Tim does look like a dad, and fatherhood has always looked good on him!

12 comments:

Susie - Walking Butterfly said...

So sweet! Yes, definitely a little hug from above. Just in time for Father's Day too.

Jen said...

Sweet and brings tears to my eyes

Paula Scott Bicknell said...

Oh Anna, God sent you and Tim a hug from Jack. Love this little encounter sent from our Father in Heaven. :)

Debby@Just Breathe said...

That was sweet of the little boy and a sweet new memory to hold in your heart.....
I'm with Jack, I love a good gyro and will be having one in a few weeks with my dad in Florida!

Cassie Bustamante said...

what a sweet sweet story!

Jenn said...

Love this! Adorable. Tim definitely has that "dad" look. It looks good on him. :)

NancyS said...

yes

claire plante said...

What a beautiful encounter, Anna! Thank you for sharing it and bringing a smile to my face.
xoxoxoxo
Claire

Fiona, Lilyfield Life said...

don't kids get a shock when they look up and realise you're not their dad/mum. Nice to have these memories of Jack.
xx

Nomads By Nature said...

What a precious gift!

Anonymous said...

If it's the Greek place that starts with a P, I congratulate Jack on his fine taste in gyros.

www.robinbotie.com said...

If it had been me, I'd have been doing the math (four years old, four years gone), contemplating reincarnation. Traveling in France, a father carrying a baby girl saw my tattoo of my own dead daughter's name on my arm. "This one's name is also Marika," he said, knowing nothing about me. Immediately it occurred to me that the baby was born shortly after my daughter's death. Not that I believe in reincarnation. But I so need to make present-day links to my daughter sometimes.