Serendipity? Synchronicity? Divine Intervention?
Call it what you will, but all of us have had those undeniable “coincidences” (things that can’t ignored or explained) that made our neck hair stand on end and take notice.
Now I’ve driven the Sunset Highway hundreds of times during my 36-plus years living on the peninsula. For several months last year I went “over the hill” at least twice a week. But in all that time, I’d never stopped at the Elderberry Inn. Just never wanted to slow my trip down long enough for a meal or a cup of coffee.
One recent morning I made an exception. Maybe I was dragging my feet and looking for a distraction, or maybe I was just plain hungry, but some little voice inside me suddenly said, “Stop here.” So I did.
The waitress told me to take a seat anywhere, so I moved away from the local good-old-boys club yukking it up, and sat around the corner from them, in a booth along the windows looking out towards the highway.
When she brought me a menu, I waved it away and simply ordered two slices of French toast and two strips of bacon. That breakfast was one of Mom’s favorite two “go-to” meals when we ate out. I smiled to myself when I realized that, sipped my coffee and gazed out the window while I waited for my order.
It had been raining the entire drive, and I’d been lost deep inside my head, thinking a lot about Mom and missing her something fierce.
Now a motion just out of my line of direct sight caught my eye and I looked upward. There was a hummingbird feeder hanging there, and a tiny little guy was sitting on the perch having a drink. My smile broadened. Mom loved hummingbirds, and I had even gotten a hummingbird tattoo in her memory.
My breakfast came, and I savored every bite as the hummingbird came and went several times. It kind of felt like we were having breakfast together. When I finished eating, I headed for the restroom, perusing the artwork for sale hanging along the walls. It crossed my mind that there might be a painting or photograph of a hummingbird that I might need to add to my growing collection at home, but I saw none.
When I came back out of the restroom, I looked up above the bank of windows. There was a series of collector plates hanging all in a row—10 or 15 of them—and each one sported a different hummingbird.
I laughed, paid the bill, and headed for my car. Walking across the parking lot, I said aloud, “Ok, Mom, I get it. You’re still with me. You could have just left a penny by the car you know.”
I used the key clicker to unlock the door as I approached, and when the parking lights blinked on, I noticed a coin lying by the driver’s door. Not a penny from heaven, but a dime! Finding a dime means someone in heaven is keeping an eye on you.
At least, that’s what Mom used to say. And today, I have no doubt it’s true.