I’m on the fence about this. Webster defines it as, “a striking occurrence by mere chance of two or more events at one time. The act, fact or condition of coinciding.”
Rather ambiguous, dontchaythink? And that’s the luscious nectar of possibilities it wreaks. Was it a mere coincidence I saw two, brand new pennies, heads up, in the parking lot of the lawyer I just hired to divorce my oaf of a husband? (they’re taped inside my journal).That, on the same day, an old girlfriend I only communicate with on holidays, calls to tell me she doesn’t know why, she just felt she had to? Soon after, a prior employer phoned just to ask how I was doing.
And I’m still on the fence?
Since this ugliness called divorce has overwhelmed my life, so too have the unadulterated kindnesses of the women who have remained or come and gone in my life. As if in some grand sweep of “women’s instinct,” love and genuine care has swooped upon me like a warm blanket. A neighbor of five years, same age, whom I never really tried to know, brings me plates of pot roast and prods me to the mall to play with feather boas and nutty hats at stores where none of the clothes are larger than newborn. (there really is a size 0). She’s a Baptist and I went to Woodstock. We’ve become sisters.
Coincidence? Not on the fence anymore. Which side? Hell, I don’t think there are any choices here.
What do you think? (Coincidentally, of course.)