My friend Karen and I went out to lunch this afternoon and
got to talking about coincidences. I'd mentioned that
Steven's birthday was the same as John's. Isn't it odd,
she said, that the two men you married share the same
birthday? Also, the daughter I had with Steven, a daughter
who was stillborn two days after his funeral, was due to be
born on Sherry's (who is my only niece) third birthday. And
there were more coincidences.
John's father's family lived in Ontario, Canada which is
where my family is from. His grandfather was in the same TB
sanitarium as the one my aunt died in when she was sixteen
although not, of course, at the same time. Through his
genealogy research, John has discovered that some of my
mother's relatives are buried in a cemetery outside of
Junction City, the town he lived in most of his growing up
years. John's father lived in Indiana for a time, the same
state where Steven was born and raised and is now buried.
It's easy to see how people could begin believing in fate.
After our leisurely lunch we went antique shopping in
Brownsville, a more tourist-y town than the little town we
live in. I think they have pretensions of becoming another
town like Sisters, without the big quilt show. They do have
some great shops though and we each found several treasures
to bring home. I found an antique Limoges tea cup and
saucer as well as a delicate, very fragile but beautiful
hand painted plate with a gold plated scalloped edging.
Karen found several pieces of leaded cut glass to add to her
collection. Lovely stuff!