Barber Shop

I think I may have written about him before... but maybe I haven't. For the past year, every single morning, I walk past a little barber shop on my way to work. I stop to chat with the old man that owns the shop every time I walk by... once in the morning and once in the afternoon. I don't know much about him, and he does not know much about me. All that I know is that seeing him puts a skip in my step. His smile is so genuine, he always has something nice to say. Every. Single. Day. He tells me that seeing me makes the rest of his day better. Ditto, I say. I mean it.

Today I told him I am leaving. I felt very sad while doing so. I didn't think I would, but I truly did. He told me he wishes me the best of luck, though he hates to see me go. He said I am taking his sunshine with me. I told him we didn't have to say goodbye yet, that we still have four more days. He laughed then, and responded... "I never say goodbye. We will cross paths again. I promise." He looked so certain while he spoke, looking me straight in the eye.

I hope he is right.