A “coincidence” saved my life.

Except, I don’t believe it was a coincidence, though many would label it that way.

In college, I caught three buses to class. I wanted a place close to campus and was delighted to find one right across the road. I could sleep in and still be on time – love it! It was a Monday and I had a lecture at 11am; I arranged to meet the guy straight after, at noon.

I missed my bus that day. That alone was rare; I like to arrive early. Instead, I scrambled to class with minutes to spare, and couldn’t see a single seat in the sea of students in a huge lecture hall. Finally, I spotted one, way over on the far side.

I scooched  past everyone, and sat down by two girls talking in horror about a friend’s experience. She had moved in with a male roommate, and everything was fine.  Then one day, he apparently assaulted her & locked her in her room. He then marched around the perimeter of the house – dressed in combat fatigues,  brandishing a rifle and muttering about the end of the world.

Of course, he was the very man I was supposed to meet with, just one hour later.

Have you ever had a close call, or felt protected?

Comments

  1. to some readers, the following may sound odd but it is entirely true.

    I always prayed to thank God for being born to my mother.
    As a very young child growing up in the Catholic church, I believed wholeheartedly in the teachings they provided and so, felt obliged to be thankful for the most important blessing I felt I had been given, which was being born to my mother and having her for the rest of my life.

    That is how special she was; how loving, giving, affectionate, kind and yet, also wise and firm, she was as a parent. She was also that way as a grandpaprent, mother-in- law, sister, aunt, friend…you name it.

    So, when she passed away of a rare form of lung cancer in just three short months at only 59 years young; full of energy and a life as yet unfinished, I was completely at a loss for how to make sense of it.

    I was 38, married and with two children yet to be raised, her beloved granddaughter, the LIGHT of her life, only 15 at the time, and her adored granddson, only 8.

    For years, I tried.

    I taught young children with her in mind, using her songs, games, sense of adventure and wonder as inspiration. I wrote poetry, took up new hobbies and learned new tricks to stay as engaged and positive as I could, as life unfolded for me and my family, as she would have wanted me to.

    The sting of her loss never left me, however.
    And, as each important milestone came, I still wanted her to be there, present, so we could revel in it.

    Then one day I realized the wonderful things that were happening for me after she passed on were BECAUSE of her, that she WAS there, sharing it all with me, with us.

    Now that I am about the age she was when she passed on,
    whenever good things happen, which is so very often,
    I actually feel her presence and am reassured that she is never far away.

    In fact,
    there are things that have happend that
    I JUST KNOW IN MY HEART AND,
    HAVE ABSOLUTLY NO DOUBT
    she is responsible for.

    Yes, it is absolutely true.

    • Alicia Young says:

      This is beautiful, Louisa, thank you for taking the time to share it with us. Your mother sounds like such a lovely soul: why does that not surprise me?
      The woman you are would be a wonderful tribute to any parent.
      And it makes sense to me that you would feel her presence when good fortune shines. Our loved ones are always close by.
      As always, thank you for enriching these pages.
      Alicia

  2. Marie Reynolds says:

    Hi Alicia,
    I was reading your post and thinking back to a time when I was totally absorbed in my new job. Rushing back & forth in the city I was on my way to a meeting, half glancing at my notes and about the jay-walk across the lights. Everything seemed clear and just as my foot was about the hit the pavement, I felt a breeze on my shoulder, enough to think someone was too close. Being a cynical Londoner where no-one actually talks or acknowledges each other on public transport or when you’re in the ‘commuting zone’, I turned to give someone a ‘querying/you’ve encroached into my personal space’ look. Weirdly no-one was behind me (very strange for a London street in fact) but at that moment a car whoosed by so close to me my skirt ruffled and I gasped. Just luck or someone looking out for me? I’m not sure but I’m certainly grateful!
    I’m really enjoying your book.

    • Alicia Young says:

      Hello Marie,
      Firstly, I’m so sorry for the delay. Please know I’ve learned my lesson and will check for glitches on my message dashboard.
      Thank you for sharing your story – it gave me chills, in a good way! I have no doubt you were protected in that moment, and thank goodness. You also paint a vivid picture – “… a car whooshed by so close to me my skirt ruffled.” I felt like I was there with you.
      So glad you emerged okay!
      Thanks again,
      Alicia

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