We were talking about you the day that it happened. At the time that it happened, as it turns out. Melissa and I. Sitting at a Japanese buffet for lunch that Sunday afternoon. A little boy, about five years old, with dark black hair, played in the booth next to us. As he smiled at the little girl at the next table, I said something to Melissa like, "Aw, little Javi," and we both laughed. "It really is! It’s like a miniature Javier!" Melissa told me. As we got up to get dessert, for whatever reason that day, I got grapes. We sat down, and with you on my mind after our recent conversation, I began laughing as I looked down at the plate. Melissa laughed and asked, "What?" I told her how, whenever I’d come over to see you, you’d always offer me orange juice, hot pockets (try lean pockets, too!), oatmeal, cereal and, of course, grapes. "He always called them love grapes," I said to her, still laughing.
I don’t know what made me think of this "story" tonight. I don’t know why "mini Javi" was beside us that afternoon. I don’t know what made us talk about you that day, or what made me get grapes for dessert.
I’ll never know why, but I know who’s behind the why, and that’s all I ever really need to know.