Unexpected

Recently, my life has been an amalgamation of odd and/or bizarre situations. It makes me wonder if these things happen only to me. This past week has been jam-packed with them.

As I have written about in previous posts, my brother-in-law had the funeral home send my sister’s ashes to me. I have been working to arrange the interment of her ashes in the small-town cemetery where my grandparents are buried. I have been on the phone with my family as well as the funeral home in that town.

As I worked to put together a small ceremony for this, I decided to google the name of one of my sister’s friends for contact information. He is a music director for a choir with which my sister sang, and I thought he could suggest some music we could play as part of our gathering.

The google search came up with the website of an unfamiliar composer. In checking that site, I learned that members of the temple congregation where my sister sang had held a service in memory of my sister two weeks ago. My sister died two years ago. This composer had been commissioned by a member of the congregation to write music in memory of my sister. The piece was premiered at the memorial service. My sister was not Jewish. She was not a member of the temple. She had been a singer, hired by the congregation to sing in the choir. But the members of the congregation had gotten to know her over the years. Obviously, they came to love her.

It was purely accidental that I came across this information.

I emailed the composer. He sent me the score for the music he wrote and a recording of another piece of music that my sister loved and which was performed at the service.

Last night I talked to my sister’s friend. He told me more about the service. There were about 200 people who attended it, including my brother-in-law and nephew.

My b-i-l never said a word about it. We talked a week ago, when he decided to have my sister’s ashes sent to me.

My sister’s friend was the director of the choir who performed the commissioned piece. He is sending me a recording of the entire service. There were people who spoke of their memories of my sister. When the original memorial service was held after her death, the minister discouraged speakers (although we defied him and a couple of family members spoke anyway).

Her friend also told me that another composer, someone she worked with at a music school, also wrote a piece in her memory. He didn’t have a recording of the performance of that piece (it wasn’t used in the service), so he is going to have the choir that he directs do a recording of it for us this weekend. Then he will send me that recording as well.

To fully appreciate all of this, you have to realize that when I decided to talk to my b-i-l about my sister’s ashes, it was completely spontaneous. I didn’t call him. He called me about a totally different subject. As we were wrapping up that telephone call, I literally closed my eyes and asked the question about her ashes. I did not ask him to send them to me. I just wanted to spur him on to do something-just to get them out of the funeral home-even just take them home himself. I had not planned to put together an interment of her ashes.

Now, a totally different odd happening…..the kind that only happens to me.

Yesterday, after showering, dressing, and a kiss to Husband, off I went to work. I was in court all morning. In and out of the courtroom, conference rooms, talking to clients, sitting in the hall to wait for hearings, talking with attorneys-the normal stuff. I got out of court around 12:15, and decided to stop by the post office to check for mail before grabbing some lunch and going on to the afternoon court schedule. I drove to the nearby post office, walked in, and checked the PO Box in the lobby. I turned around and felt something odd-a little rush of something down my leg. I looked down at the floor…….

at a balled up sock that had dropped out of my pants leg.

It had been there all morning, and I had not noticed. It must have been held by static electricity after the dryer. I tried to be cool and calm as I reached down to the floor, scooped it up and slid it into my purse.  It felt as though  I should whistle a bit, cool and collected as I walked out of the building into my car.

Only me.