I’ve had a series of peculiar things happen lately. In Munich airport last week, I picked up my phone to send an SMS to check on dinner plans that night in Budapest. Before I could type a letter, it beeped with an incoming SMS asking me that very same question. A couple of days later, I again picked up my phone to text a reminder to send contact details I needed. Again, it beeped before I could put finger to button and the message? The phone number I needed.
Fair enough. These things happen. I’ve been known to addle a few minds by answering unspoken questions. This time though, I was on the receiving end. And both involved the same person. Perhaps I’m being oversensitive or am overexposed. Had it ended there, I’d have thought no more of it except perhaps to suggest he add some basic form of telepathy to an already accomplished list of accomplishments.
I went to make a cup of tea during the week and found the tea caddy empty. No Barry’s! All I’d left was a drawer of funny-flavoured teas and I wasn’t quite that desperate. As I was dealing in childlike fashion with my disappointment, the doorbell rang. And there stood the postman, parcel in hand. In it? Some Barry’s Tea from the lovely Messes Stein and Nugent. Timing or what?
In Prague on Thursday, wandering the streets, I wondered fleetingly where O’Ché’s pub might be. I’d heard MH & Co talking about it and was vaguely curious to see it. Not curious enough to look up the address beforehand, mind you, but curious enough, nonetheless. I turned a corner and there it was, as if manifested by magic.
The lovely LN on her last trip to Budapest had mentioned a ceramic phenomenon called the Prague Ladies. I couldn’t remember where she’d found them or which end of what bridge they were on. On Friday evening, as I reached the top of the steps to Charles Bridge, I went for my phone to text and ask. Just before I pressed the send button, I looked up into a shop window and there they were…
It seems as if things just keep on happening as I need them to happen. You’ll know, of course, that I am in Prague this weekend for a reason. I scattered Lori’s ashes from the Bridge on Friday and cried myself silly. Then, I got back to the flat we’d rented and logged on to find a host of messages from friends sending me good thoughts (thank you all). In amongst them was an e-mail that said: ‘I feel that Lori wants you to know this …..’ addressed to me as ‘Hey Girl’ – just as she would have done herself.
I wish so much you wouldn’t cry the way you did today
While thinking of the many things we didn’t get to say.
I know how much you love me, as much as I love you,
And each time that you think of me, I know you’ll miss me too.
At the end of what has been a week of high highs and low lows, I’ve decided to stop questioning why these things are happening. Call it synchronicity or whatever… labels don’t mean as much as they used to. I prefer to think of it as a guiding hand from heaven. And that thought alone will surely confirm the madness for some 🙂
Note: For a reminder of what the Grateful series is about, check out Grateful 52