The Lead In:
Back when my wife and I were dating (circa 1984-85) we came accross a saying that we had framed, that we thought appropriate. The image had the word “Coincidence” as you would find it in a dictionary and the definition was “When God does a miracle and decides to remain anonymous” I’m not sure if after all these years of putting up with me that she would still call our coming todgether a miracle, but we are still here.
Again, I digress.
Last week, I posted a short story about our mother and her end of life journey and how I am handling it from almost 800 miles away. It was called The Pitch and the story described my frustration and anger at a hospice “salesman”.
The hospital social worker assigned to my mom had a familiar last name, the same as a priest who grew up in a town adjacent to where the hospital is. He now is in South Carolina and we had become re-acquainted through my membership in the Knights of Columbus. (I had also been working at the funeral home in Manville, NJ, and was present, when his father died back in the late 1980’s) On a long shot, I had to ask her if she was related to him? Well, she is his siter-in-law. That made it a little easier and it seems that she has going the extra distance for mom and me.
Small world. But, it gets even better.
Due to my experience with the “salesman”, I was given the name and number of the administrator of the hospice facility to be my contact. I called her and we discussed my frustration up to that point and she promised me that she would be handling my mother’s transfer personally and would be getting back to me me later in the day. I explained that I was a funeral director and had several families I was meeting with that day, so if she called and I could not answer, to please leave a message and I would return her call as soon as I could. She replied that she understood because her father had been a funeral director. I then asked where he had worked and she gave me the name of the firm that I served ny apprenticeship at. I slowly asked her who her dad was and she gave me the name of the man who trained me at The Memorial FH in Plainfield and Fanwood, NJ. . . 43 years ago!
My world got smaller yet and I scored another advocate for mom and our family.
There is no doubt, at least in my mind, that these are examples of a coincidence, of the Devine nature.
Mom continues to hang on and I know she is being well cared for.