Coincidences

There are run-of-the-mill coincidences that are haha funny, like seeing someone at a restaurant and then the next day at the farmers market, after not seeing him or her for years. It’s weird, and maybe you wonder about it for a minute or two but, in the scheme of things, who cares?

Then there are other coincidences that are so impactful in evoking emotion that it’s impossible to imagine that these two happenings were unrelated and mean nothing. NO WAY.  

As you might expect, David and I don’t see eye-to-eye on coincidences. You can probably guess which one of us believes coincidences can be meaningful in contrast to always being random.

I called David on my way home from running errands one day this past week, and we had the usual conversation that 2 retirees who are home together every single day all day might say to one another as we approach the lunchtime hour: “What should we have?”

Unlike most days, when I called this time, he said he needs to get out of the house (code for something’s not right), so let’s think of a place to sit outside for lunch. Once I got home and we started the 5-minute drive to Honeygrow, I asked what was bothering him. He told me that his former colleague’s wife had just died. She was just 59 years old.

Hearing about this woman’s passing and imagining the sadness of all those left behind transformed David’s serene state of mind after working outside on a perfect weather day into a very sad one with an endless plethora of memories and emotions about his beloved Matthew.  

I was glad that David suggested going out, knowing that more time outdoors on this sunny day would do him good.  

Just as we were ready to sit down in the dining area outside, a man called out: “David Minches?”

Turns out he was David’s former neighbor who he hadn’t seen for some 25 years, so after a warm greeting, the two started the catch-up conversation. Then I heard the dreaded question: “How are the KIDS doing?” Kids, plural. Ugh.

David brought up Lauren first, and said she and her family are living in Morocco…and I held my breath. I hoped the neighbor would somehow get distracted and forget about this family talk and that somehow the conversation would be redirected to something – anything – other than where I feared it was going. Instead, when David took a breath after talking about Lauren, the man asked, “How’s Matthew?”  

This guy still lives in Cherry Hill, where we live, and he has sons whose ages are aligned with Matthew’s. How did he not know – or forget? He likely blocked out the horrid information many moons ago.

And there we were, at Honeygrow of all places, to change the downward spiral of emotions that David was experiencing, counting on more fresh air and a change of scenery that would allow him to refocus.  

I didn’t know what he’d say, given that this is a question no one in David’s shoes would want to answer. He told his old neighbor that Matthew passed away 15 years ago when he was 20, and the neighbor was, as you might expect, speechless. My guess is that this man will never ask a question like this again to anyone he hasn’t seen for a long time.

We will never know if and how the 2 happenings an hour apart were somehow connected in some crazy way, but me being me believes there is meaning to be had.

To David, it was just a bad coincidence on all counts, except for reuniting with his very kindhearted neighbor.