The first day of the three day weekend seemd to go on for eternity and we filled it with many different activities from gardening, to cleaning, to installing insulation, to seeing a movie and finally riding around in my old childhood neighborhood.
We drove down the street now miniature in my mind. The large hill beginning at the entrance where many a adolescent bike race began, now seemed flat and the kick ball field of macadam wasn't much bigger than a suburban double driveway. The only ghost was that of a little boy standing at the end of the road forlorn waiting for someone to shoot baskets with him. We carefully turned into Mr. Costa's yard so we could turn around and I noticed that it looked like it had 40 years ago. His wife had passsd away some time ago and as we backed out of his driveway I could see the flashes of those years before me and then I wondered how he was doing now.
When I was younger strange things would happen and I would chalk it up to being a coincidence. As years go by however and I get older more and more things happen that I cannot chalk up to coincidence only because of the frequency in which they occur. I have dreamed of things that come true within days of me dreaming them. Such as the crash of the flight on the Hudson River in NY. I dreamed that exact incident the night before it happened with every detail of the stranded pasengers on the wings.
I awoke this morning and started my daily routine beginning a new week. After perusing my favorite blogs I opened the page to Farley's Funeral Home to check for the obituatries looking for those people who have crossed my path. Low and behold there was Manny Costa smiling like I always remembered him. As I read through the story I stopped on a dime to see he had passed on that first day of the long weekend, the same day I turned into his driveway. Pin It Now!