Today a coincidence story from Olive, which has similarities in some respects to a post on the synchrosecrets blog titled The Guy from the Past. Thank you Olive.
Shortly after my husband died I went on a coach trip to Brighton with a club of which I'm a member. When we arrived I wandered off on my own. The weather was damp and overcast and all in all a little depressing.
As there was rain in the air I went into a small cafe for a tea and bun. There were only two other people inside so I sat by the window looking out at the people walking by with their umbrellas.
This happened just after Andy Williams had died and the cafe had the radio playing. They started playing Andy's Moon River and just as the words, "... waitin' round the bend, my Huckleberry friend ...," were being sung a grey haired man in a smart suit walked into the cafe and ordered a coffee.
I felt uncomfortable about him coming in and more so when he sat on the next table to me. It seemed he wanted to chat to someone and picked on me. He mentioned the rain and then he looked at me and said, "Good grief, you're not Olive are you?"
I admitted I was. "It's me, Andy T****, from college. Remember? God, how many years was that ago? I recognised your eyes."
I had known Andy when I was 17 and 18 (I'm now 64). I didn't recognise him at first but when he started remembering things we had done together, places we had been, I knew it was him. You don't easily forget the first time you make love.
We talked about how our lives had panned out, me with marriage and three children, him with one daughter and two marriages. His wife had died of cancer recently so we had sadness to share.
He then said he had to go as he had some sort of appointment to attend. "I'll give you my phone number," he said, "Where's your mobile?"
I gave him my phone and he fed in his number. "Please ring me," he said as he went out of the door, "Don't forget. We must keep in touch."
The weather wasn't too bad for the rest of the day and I met up with some of the other club members and tried to forget Andy.
The next day, sitting in my own house in the London suburbs and feeling lonely, I was tempted to phone Andy. Instead there was an incoming call, it was one of my sons. He wanted to know if I would go with him, and my two other sons and their families to the church on Saturday, as it would have been their father's birthday.
I was quite cross with myself. I couldn't believe I hadn't remembered my husband's birthday, we would always do something special with of the family.
I looked at my mobile phone, and then deleted Andy's number.
Olive allowed me to edit her story slightly but the facts are unaltered.