John, Not My Dad

We were looking at a map.  A fellow came up to us and asked us if we needed help.  The more he spoke to Husband with directions…the less I could hear him.  I just kept looking at him.

When he came around the street map and was talking with me I said “Do you care if I take a picture with you?  I want to show my brothers and sisters.  You look like my dad.”  I don’t know why I thought it.  The more I looked at him, the more I thought so.  If dad would have let his hair grow thick and he had lived long enough for it to turn all white.  I kept looking.  Maybe it was the idea that if dad had lived long enough he would have been like this man.

He smiled and pulled his head back in surprise.  I pulled my head back when he pulled his head back.  What had I said!  I quickly wondered if I had said something hurtful.

He laughed and said “I thought you said ‘I look like your God'”.

I said “well, I guess I don’t really know, maybe you do look like my God”.

He said “well I talk to Him often enough”.   He put his arm around me and smiled.

I did too.

John, Not My Dad

This is John, not my dad.

He carried a golf club as he walked.

I approved.

Who knows.  Maybe he does look like my God.

Even if he doesn’t.

 I like the way he looks.