As we were heading into town yesterday, I was musing on the vagueries of life. I was wondering about random and purpose and divine plans versus a randomly occurring universe. And I was thinking about Greg, wondering how something like this happens as we drew inexorably closer to the tunnels of the Big Dig. And I was thinking about the ceiling tile of one of the Big Dig tunnels falling and crushing a car as it drove beneath. And when that happened I remember thinking how horrible it was on so many levels, but now for the first time I understand how completely horrible it was for her family and friends, for the people who cared about her. That this utterly random thing happened, and not just happened, but happened to them. How do you cope with that? How can you assign purpose?
Getting no where with my thoughts I put them aside to consider later, and focused on paying attention to where we were going. Unfortunately, that didn't help. We're unfamiliar enough with the tunnels that we got off an exit too soon. We found where we going using an overland route, but through an accidental wrong turn, we ended up inexorably on 93, in the same direction we'd gotten off, having missed the exit facing exit 18.
"If you go to exit 15 (the exit after 18, don't ask) we can turn around there, at the rotary." I said, calling up my mental map of the area without even thinking about it. Hoppie moved over to get off. "Left off the exit." I said in the same automatic way.
"Maybe we don't have to go all the way to the rotary."
"Yeah, whatever, but you do." I replied.
"You'll see. I already know."
It occurred to me that the reason I have a mental map is because I did something for someone who lived off that exit a couple of times and got familiar with it. Strange connections. A reward for services rendered? A good thing coming back to help me?
It probably seems like nothing to anyone, but coming on the heels of the debate I was having with myself, it feels like a, not a sign, a lesson. A warner to whoso would be warned.