We lived on same street, different state, 38 yrs ago

I was invited to stay the night at a friend’s house, a friend I’ve known a couple of years now. She made dinner for us, we had margaritas, took a dip in the hot tub, which made me so sleepy, I had to go straight to bed.<br /> The next morning, her husband made omelets, and we enjoyed a wonderful breakfast. We started talking about how she and I had met—that she’d reached out to me on LinkedIn to see if I knew anyone who needed a project manager. I recalled that at the time she reached out, I thought I knew her, so I gladly forwarded her name to my boss, and she got a freelance gig. It wasn’t until much later that I realized I hadn’t known her then at all. I remembered that at the time, I was so certain I knew her, there wasn’t even a question of recommending her. She said she was grateful for the opportunity that lasted over two years.<br /> So, at breakfast, we continued talking about things we had in common: we are nearly the same age, we both sing and have played the guitar, we’re both spiritually minded and independent, both had rough marriages (her first one, both of mine). She mentioned she had performed at a café near where I live…I had performed there as well, around the same time (15 years ago!), and we both knew the owner. Her husband said it was getting spooky, and we had a good laugh.<br /> Then her husband asked me where I grew up. And it’s amazing to realize that the rest of the coincidence would never have been realized had he not asked that simple question. I said I grew up in the Tampa Bay area, and her husband said of my friend, “Her mom lived in Tampa, too.”<br /> She said, “But I didn’t live in Tampa. When I lived there, we actually lived in Indian Rocks Beach…when I was in first grade.”<br /> “What?!” I said, “I lived in Indian Rocks Beach… when I was in elementary school, from first grade to fourth grade.”<br /> Her husband again said how weird it was, and we all laughed when he said he’d have to leave the house if it got any weirder.<br /> She said, “Yeah, that is weird…I mean, a lot of people have heard of Tampa, but who’s really heard of Indian Rocks Beach?”<br /> We figured out that she and her family had moved away from the beach the year before my family moved there. Then she decides to add a detail, sort of nostalgically, “Yeah…we lived there… on 10th Avenue.”<br /> When she said that, I felt my mind slowly replay what she’d said. I remember thinking, Did she really just say 10th Avenue? “No way…I lived on 10th Avenue…we lived on the same street?!”<br /> As we talked, we realized we may have gone to the same elementary school, and we talked about places we’d liked, like Pueblo Village, the park at the end of our street. We also learned that we are one of three children and both our parents had eloped after knowing each other only three months…and then we just had to stop. It was really overwhelming for me, and I actually started to tear up.<br /> I’m still working through why I had such a strong, emotional response…perhaps because I’ve always believed in and found deep meaning and comfort in coincidences. Overall, I think this means a lot to me now to have what is to me another undeniable confirmation that my life is part of, and has always been a part of, an interconnected “web” of human experience. And that connected life somehow gives meaning to all that has happened…and makes it OK.