When All Things Work For Good

Philip Gulley-Joan and I rode our bicycles to the Dairy Queen last week.  In our family we have to earn our ice cream by pedaling a mile uphill.  So we were up there eating our ice cream cones and a teenage boy sat next to me on the long bench and we began to talk.  His mannerisms, facial expressions, and even the tone of his voice, were familiar to me, but I couldn’t place him, and was too embarrassed to ask his name.  Then his mother approached and I remembered who he was, the nephew of my best friend growing up, Tim.  Tim died in 1981, but his nephew had many of the same qualities, which is why he seemed familiar.  It was an odd experience, like having my best friend back for a moment.