My Wise Old Man

Last Thursday, Frank and I decided to have dinner and drinks at our favorite local restaurant. It has seating on the lake, and they have a great menu. We sat, ordered our drinks, and watched a mama duck strut around following her baby protectively. Watching a blonde haired 3 year old boy feed them, made me think about Quinn, and I started talking about him. This is normal for me. I talk about Quinn, and Frank just listens. Of course we talked about other things, but Quinn dominated the conversation. There were a lot of what ifs.

We ate, and ordered another round of drinks. It was a beautiful night, and we were in no hurry. The sun was finally set, and the candles were lit on each table of the deck. The breeze was calm, but the air was warm enough for there still to be children playing in the water. I looked up from my beer as the server was seating the table next to us. I recognized the woman that was seated there, but not the man. I looked at Frank who obviously also recognized the woman.

In a hushed voice Frank leaned in and spoke, "Do you know who that is? I think that's Stacy."

"Stacy?", I was puzzled.

But it only took me a second to put it together. Stacy was the nurse that helped deliver Quinn. Stacy was our night nurse that picked up the morning shift to stay with us. Stacy was the nurse who honestly told us that she has also never filled out a death certificate. She took such good care of my family and I.

"Oh geez. Really? How big is this restaurant? We were just talking about Quinn! Should I say something? Why here? Why now?", I thought I might be reduced to tears. But not Frank.

"Don't you see? This is a good thing. Take it as a good sign. Why would she be placed here, next to us, in this restaurant, in this town, at this time? Think about it.", Frank whispered.

He is so wise.