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Ever have those days where you feel like you've been 'chosen' to be the listener? I am not a religious person, but I guess that I would say I have spiritual qualities. Sometimes. So something happened yesterday that was just so odd, and it brought back a memory from last year, when something similar happened.

I am one LUCKY GIRL to be living in a city with a great train system. I LOVE the Max...and, it's relatively close to my house, which means I can easily walk to one of the close by stops & take it out to the airport. So much cheaper than a cab. So last year at Christmas, I took the Max to the airport. I live in what I guess you would call a transitional neighborhood. There are still people who say "oh you live in THAT area of town?"- but an awful lot more who say "wow, wise girl, you got a house in THAT area of town!!!" And truth be told, it's not exactly what I'd call "rough", although there are some rougher areas not too far away. So, I was waiting on the platform for the train to come, and this woman with one eye comes up to me and starts talking. This woman could well have been on crack. If not at that time, the day before. I was smiling & listening to her mostly- that's what it seemed she wanted. She was telling me about her friend who was homeless, in a wheelchair, how he was a white guy but he was okay, but stubborn- and he didn't have legs- I think. It was a year ago. Then she started saying how she quit doing heroine (Okay exchange "crack" for "heroine" above) and he didn't, and she took him to a Christmas party at a church and he was disrespecting her friends there, and she wanted to fight him. I don't remember much else about the conversation- to be honest I wasn't terribly comfortable standing there next to her, but I think mostly it was her odor. Not sure if she was homeless, but she definitely needed a shower.

So the train comes & I go to the next car up to get on. I sit down next to this adorable elderly woman with the cutest little black hat on. This is the idyllic grandmother look- perfectly white curly hair, a neat and tidy outfit with a clean coat, comfort shoes- she is really adorable. So after a few minutes I looked at her and said "I love your hat, it's so pretty." At which point she started talking to me- telling me she has to wear a hat because when she was in a concentration camp in Germany they beat her so much on the head that she has a spot where hair won't grow. that some people didn't believe she'd been in a concentration camp (did I mention the very German accent?), and then onto death & dying. She said there was a woman who came to Portland several years back that she had seen speak, who had "given us permission to die." She said she is the woman who wrote the book "On Death & Dying", which basically gave the world permission to die. She said before that time, you had to live no matter what- but this woman told the world it was okay to die. She was very interesting and I was sorry that our ride was so short.

So, I changed to the other train & once it arrived, piled on with the other passengers. It was close to Christmas, so standing room only. I ended up standing next to a guy who was more or less my age, maybe a few years younger. We started talking about our trips, who we were visiting, and he started pouring out to me that his sister had moved away and his parents were getting older, and in a few years he was going to have to think about moving back to take care of them. As the son (who was likely not more than 30 at this point) he felt it was his obligation, not his elder sisters, to move back to his hometown & take care of his parents when they were getting older.

The irony is these three events happened back to back, all in about 1 1/2 hrs or less. I tried to figure out what they meant. Maybe they didn't mean anything. Maybe my "role" for the day was just to be the person to hear them as they made it through their day. Maybe I was supposed to provide them with something, or maybe more importantly, they provided ME with something. I don't know. But it's a year later, and I still remember that day with quite a bit of clarity.

So yesterday we had our monthly FCC waiting families meeting. It's held at a hospital in town, so I stopped at the starbucks before going up to the meeting. There was a Dr. or Nurse right ahead of me who ordered his coffee, and we ended up waiting for our coffees at the same time. I was carrying 2 cookbooks, but they were fairly covered by my bulky jacket. As we waited, he looked at me and started explaining that he had these roasted salted macadamia nuts his girlfriend had brought him, and he had just realized he could grind them up, and put them onto halibut (or salmon, I forget), and there was a bit more detail I don't recall. I said, and did the cookbooks in my hands inspire that?" He said, no, then something about not noticing them. So we both walk to the elevator and he starts saying how he was driving home from work the other day & was planning to skin a salmon he had waiting at home and grill it, but then he got home and decided instead to cube it, then dip it in milk, then in egg, then dredge in flour, then in egg again, then in cracker crumbs, mixed with garlic and salt and (several other spices I forget now) and fry it and.....at which point the elevator opened and he got off and was looking at me and still talking, then started turning and walking away but still talking out loud and the elevator doors closed and....that was it. I have no idea what it means. Am I supposed to change careers and take over for Lynnn Rosetta Casper? hmm....no, don't think so. but I did come home and make a cake.

So interesting, sometimes these things happen and I just get the idea that there is something more there- kind of the red-thread idea when it's not connected to adoption: We have red threads that connect us to everyone in our lives, when we need people or they need us, the red threads shorten, and when they need us less or we need them less, they lengthen. I like that more loosely interpreted version. Red threads to everyone I know.