She Gets It

Sometimes, God does a different kind of matchmaking.

Today, he put me right next to someone who needed to talk and to be understood. She began speaking the moment I boarded our town jitney as if she had been waiting just for me.

Mind you, I have heard her and others in conversation on many occasions. My ear always gravitating toward her very significant accounts of growing up, tales of the grandchildren, etc. I had, in retrospect, already heard her news through a mutual friend, but did not know the connection.

She began to tell me about her brother, who passed away on Sunday. He had been on the transplant list for some time, with a few close calls, but no match. He was 46 and a practicing alcoholic until the end. The last year of life had been painful for all.

She spoke of the family rivalry already commencing over money and possessions, long before the funeral was to take place. She needed a pair of black shoes for the service this evening.

We parted company for a while, upon arrival at our destination. Today was a different kind of day at Wal-Mart. I decided to get some flowers for her while shopping. The moment I gave them to her, she seemingly became weightless. The conversation continued.

A month passed until I saw my friend; once again, we were right where we needed to be.

She had just come from watching one of her grandsons in his school Halloween parade. Pure joy in her eyes, as she shared a few pics with me. After a few minutes of catching up, I thought to mention the flowers I had given her, asking if they had lasted a good long time.

Her whole expression changed instantly, as she began to tell of how they lasted longer than any placed at her brother’s funeral. She told me she had shared my simple gesture with every member of her family and had taken photos of the bouquet and later dried and pressed some of the flowers into a Memory book of her brother’s life.

“I’m so glad I asked you, you have no idea how much that means to me,” I said.

In truth, she does.
She gets it.
Until next time, my friend.


Photo Credit: mikecogh Flickr via Compfight cc


Katherine Wilson

Born and partially raised in Miami, Florida, Katherine began life as a dancer, studying with Martha Mahr and School of American Ballet. The words “too big and heavy,” at 15, led to a two-year hiatus. A stint as a cocktail waitress/dancer at a local supper club resurrected that career endeavor and took her to South America, Japan, and several stops stateside. She landed in NYC, her true love, for the next twelve years; living the single gal life and soaking it all in. She's most grateful for the hat she's worn for the last sixteen years - single mom. In this endeavor, she's rewritten most of her script. She seeks to live her definition of a significant life and to hear from others who are doing the same. She can, on occasion, be seen dancing in her living room.

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