Blog on Fate

Some people question if there is such a thing as fate. There are so many examples of people being in a place they would never have gone to and can’t explain why they were there, it’s hard to dismiss fate out of hand.

A perfect example is an event which meant so much to me, and leaves me shaking my head wondering what are the odds. My husband and I were on vacation in St. Lucia, and decided we would go to this particular restaurant as they were known to have live music. We showed up and asked the waitress what time the music would begin. This was the month of June, which is considered low-season for tourism and as such, we learned there would be no music, live or otherwise. We decided to sit at the bar rather than leave, and have a cup of coffee. There was a man sitting on the bar stool to my right, and I noticed that every time an employee came near, he called them over and gave them a pen as a little gift. This interested me and someone giving gifts must be a nice person whom I wished to meet. I asked what was the reason he was giving pens away, and while the reason now escapes me, we told each other our names, and I introduced him to my husband and we got to chatting. He had the soul of a Gypsy, never lighting in any one spot for too long. He said he had been living in Freeport, Bahamas for many years, and I told him that my mother lived there the last years of her life.

I told him that she’d had cancer and a friend had come up with a control for cancer, and as they were friends, she went there for treatment. As the treatment was expensive, he didn’t charge her, but rather, when she was feeling better, gave her a job running the office. This man told us that he was the manager of the Italian restaurant across the street from the clinic, and knew the doctor running the clinic, our family friend. I told him I remembered my mother telling me that she and Dr. Burton would often go to that restaurant for lunch, and when I described my mother, who had black, frizzy hair and was quite pretty, he remembered her and how she came in often for lunch w/ the doctor. Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather, especially as my mother had at that time been gone for nearly 28 years, and yet here I was, sitting beside a man who remembered her all these years later. Now some may say it was a coincidence, but I believe it was fate that brought us to that restaurant on that evening, and that we stayed for a coffee, etc. What are the odds?

Another example is not a pleasant one, but cannot be explained by anything but fate. One evening, my brother, our best friend and I were to go to a Frank Zappa concert. We were to have picked up our friend’s girlfriend and her best friend, also a good friend of ours, and we were all to go together. I had a cold and felt I shouldn’t go out, and my brother and our friend got into my brother’s car, a Vega, and as per usual the piece of junk wouldn’t start. They decided go in our friend Frank’s car instead. After the concert, the girls were taken home and my brother and Frank came back to our house. Frank was a very good mechanic, a hobby of his, and he decided that though it was rather late in the evening, he would see what was wrong w/ the Vega and try to affect repairs. He did so, the car started, and they took off for a test drive, my brother driving. They stopped at a convenience store for some cigarettes and as was typical, upon returning to the car, Frank wanted to drive and see how the car was now running. This is where the fate comes in. We have no idea what they were doing in a part of town in which they’d never before gone, and why Frank would have driven around the two cars in front of him stopped at the Stop sign, but he did, and drove right out onto a highway, where they were hit by an oncoming car. The car went 100 feet into the air, and when it came down, crumpled as it was made of aluminum. Frank’s head hit the roof of the car and his body was crushed, where he sustained extensive internal injuries and died soon after. My brother was finally removed from the car, after the firemen used the Jaws of Life to open the car. He lived, but I cannot help but think it was Frank’s time and they were in that accident, in that neighbourhood solely for that reason, as there is no other explanation for their having been there, or for Frank having done such a dangerous thing, which was totally out of character for him.

How often have the words been spoken, someone was in the wrong place at the wrong time. One more example was when my husband went into a health store where he would get his supplements. He saw that the store was due to close temporarily for renovations at the end of business that day. Greg said his goodbyes to the young man with whom he usually dealt, and said he looked forward to seeing him, John again in about two weeks. The next evening, John went to a bar for a couple of drinks, and left to walk home, as he lived nearby. He had to pass a rather rowdy bar on his way home, and at that time, the bouncer had ejected a patron who was too drunk and starting trouble. Instead of leaving, this vicious man decided to take revenge on the bouncer by going to his car and getting a gun. He returned and shot at the bouncer, but instead shot and killed John, and innocent bystander who, as fate would have it, was in the wrong place at the wrong time. As I mentioned earlier, I believe it was his time, and that was why he was there at the precise moment that the thug decided to exact his revenge on the bouncer, who was merely doing his job.

I’m sure everyone has a tale similar to these, which they may or may not shrug off as coincidence. Perhaps that is just a euphemism for the word Fate!

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