Friday, 23 January 2015

Being mistaken for someone else

A bright, sunny January afternoon, walking past the Cliffs Pavilion Theatre in Westcliff.  A memorable building for me, I was in exactly that spot when my son phoned me to tell me he had been run over. Yes, he actually had been run over, he was extremely fortunate, no major injuries, nothing life threatening, but a massive shock for him and everyone who heard about the event. 

There I was, really enjoying the winter sun, breathing in the sea air and being grateful for being able to walk along, at my will, freely, as I wished, without being answerable to anyone or anything, you know, generally enjoying being me and there was a little tap on my left shoulder. It is always my left shoulder, the one which is still really painful after a work injury six months ago, the one which is due to have physio some time in the near future.

A woman in her seventies, pushing a woman in a wheelchair,who had a beautiful furry hat on, sunken down into the chair like an old tortoise.

'Beverley...' she said.

I turned and smiled. 'Sorry, no, not Beverley'

She apologised. I explained I get that all the time and we fell in step as we walked past the theatre. I said hello to Helena the woman in the wheelchair, due to be 100 next week. She smiled, looked deep into my eyes and reached her gloved hand out to hold mine. I felt strength in her hand grip mine and we held a mutual connection for a few seconds. I marvelled at her giant brown eyes peering out through wizened skin and I felt a hundred years old. 

We had a little chat, about me being mistaken for other people, and we both agreed that now she had been reminded of Beverley, chances are she would now bump into the actual friend, Beverley. We are all aware of this phenomenon aren't we? She said she used to work in a cafe and she would get that a lot, she would think of someone and they would show up in her cafe. We both agreed there is something bigger which brings us both feelings of dread, or good feelings and thoughts of people due in our lives. Neither of us could decide whether it was us thinking of them which brought them in, or them thinking of coming to us, which we picked up in the ether. Either way, I was happy to meet a like-minded person, knowing she has been on the planet for more than quarter of a century longer than me, and Helena over half a century more!

I am determined to still be smiling when I reach 100.

Lots of love and light to everyone who needs it.

Tamasin x

p.s. as I walked home, I noticed a car number plate with the name 'Tom' written on it (my Dad, now in spirit). 

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