Things happen for a reason. I headed out this morning all prepared to Zumba, my new, fun exercise class. The place was dark. Reason? It’s Friday. Who knew? I totally was thinking it was Thursday. Still adjusting to the Summer schedule.

Anyway, there was another lady sitting there. She had arrived at the wrong time for her Pilates class–dark studio. I began the small talk and turns out we know each other. I had read in the paper recently about the untimely death of her husband–a path I too have walked. I plopped down on the floor across from her. She shared her story, I mine. An hour soon passed and the questions flowed.

“When did you feel . . . better?”
“What did you do with his clothes? How soon?”
“How did this work?”
“What did you do about that?”
“When did you cry?”
“Did he send you signs?”

There we sat, two women right place, right time, sharing life and one of its biggest hurdles. I do not believe that was a coincidence. We were brought together for a reason and by whom? I think I know.