Remember my patient friend from the pod company?

She came to visit me today. We are down to the last pod, and it just didn’t close properly. The latches wouldn’t hold, and without monumental effort, the lock hasp wouldn’t align with its loop. So I gave my pod delivery woman a call–and she was more than happy to come out and swap the pod for a better constructed replacement.

But that’s not why I’m telling you this story.

When she got here, we chatted about the move and a few other things. Then I told her about my father-in-law passing away. She, in turn, told me about a friend of hers–healthy and only 42 years old–who died suddenly just a week or two ago.

I told her that just last night I had been thinking about how a death–be it sudden or after long suffering–forces me to acknowledge the fact that any day could well be my last, and to try to live with that truth in mind.

She nodded her head vigorously:

Oh yes, that is so true! Every morning that I wake up, I say “Thank you for this day!” I always think about what my mother would tell me: no one knows the hour or the day of their passing. So I want to appreciate each day that I have.

What a wonderful conversation we had, standing there on the street today!

My son teases me sometimes–why is it that I have to talk to every cashier and every retail or service worker I encounter? I don’t think he really minds, but it does amuse him. And of course, my only response is: why wouldn’t I?

Today, I felt like I connected with someone I have only met face to face twice, and with whom I have only spoken on the phone a handful of times. But in our brief exchange, I felt I had run into someone who was on the same path I am trying to tread. Brief exchanges like the one I had today are like getting the high sign, or a not-so-secret handshake from a fellow traveler.

There’s some line of Whitman jangling around in my head that touches on the same idea, but I can’t quite get it right at this hour….

But I bet you already get the picture, fellow traveler!