When I was younger, my dad would always give me spare change before I went out (with friends, to NYC for the weekend, etc.). You know, in case I needed to make an emergency phone call, etc.
Yesterday, we cleaned the house from top to bottom, because our friend is house sitting for us while we're away. I stumbled across the plastic bag that contained the clothes my dad wore the night he died. I had stashed them below the bottom rung of our staircase bookshelf - after coming home from the hospital that fateful day.
They were his favourite brown striped pajama pant, blue and white striped polo shirt and blue sweater. All a bit dirty from frequent wear - and cut up, by the doctors who worked to save his life that night. I didn't want to throw them out, so I decided to wash them, so I could store them away for good.
When I took them out of the wash to put into the dryer, there was a $20 bill in the washing machine - folded perfectly in half and wet from the wash. Now, I know what you're all thinking - I deduced the same thing - and I'm not a superstitious person, but I couldn't help but feel moved by the serendipity of the moment.
I went to bed last night feeling comforted - not to mention, bloody exhausted from my long day - and felt blessed, ready and excited for my upcoming trip.
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