Someone’s Dad

Tonight at dinner, an older gentleman walked over to our table and put his hand on Troy’s shoulder and began talking to us. He told us of train rides and family stories.


At one point, when he asked where we were from and we told him Dallas, he said he had a daughter who lived in Dallas. Then he pointed to a table with two adult women and three younger kids, and told us they were his other daughters and his grandkids.


We noticed that both women looked horrified, and were obviously embarrassed that he was talking to us.


After he walked away, I found myself fighting tears. I hope those women know what a treasure their Dad is. He has stories. Good stories. And they will miss those stories when he’s gone.


Just felt the need to share.