It seemed so silly. Embarrassing, almost. Crying in front of a perfect stranger. A customer, at that.

He asked about music: music that reminded me of Dad. The songs could have been a playlist from my dad’s eight-track player in his truck. If playlists had been such a thing back then.

He responded with words of understanding. His eyes reassuringly glistened. We talked about how he had played piano when he was younger. Now that he was retired, he might have more time to play.

I encouraged him to continue playing. Even mentioned taking lessons. He left with a registration form in hand.

A chance meeting? Or maybe, just maybe, a moment worth counting.

Fast forward a few weeks. And a now familiar face walked in the door.

Hi, Mike!

Oh, you remember me?

Of course! I told my family how I had cried in front of a perfect stranger at work!

We both smiled. There were no tears this time.

Decided I would like to sign up for those piano lessons. When can we start?

I no longer felt silly or embarrassed. Instead, I held a moment of awe in the middle of my heart, standing in the middle of a music store.