The People We Meet: Destiny or Coincidence?
As a psychologist, I get to know my clients for who they really are, at their core. And sometimes, my clients impact me as much as I think I impact them. I had been seeing this gentleman for a little over a year. He came to me for help managing the difficult and dark emotions following the separation from his wife of 25 years. I will call him Nick, to respect his privacy. Nick and I met regularly, at the same time, on the same day, every week. When restrictions were put into place in our state, we met using Zoom, on our regularly scheduled day and time. Nick was rarely late, and always dressed nicely, even during this COVID-19 pandemic. When most of my other clients who had Zoom sessions were in their sweats/shorts/pajamas, Nick was always showered and dressed impeccably. When our session was over, he would remind me to take his copay, and over Zoom would read me his credit card information.
Nick worked as an educator. This gave him opportunities to teach young adults, to chair programs they were involved in, and to mentor them. He spoke with warmth and love for these young men and women. He was passionate about passing on his interest in social activism, writers, philosophers, and civil rights. Only three weeks ago, Nick talked about one young student, whom I will call “Anna”. Like many of the students he talked about, he told me how she was so shy as a freshman, and how he encouraged and supported her and helped her become a confident woman who now has her own classroom, teaching her own students. Nick was so proud, like “fatherly” proud. People like Anna helped him feel that he still had so much to give, and so much to teach, despite the anguish and disappointment he felt about his marriage not going as he had hoped.
One week after Nick told me about Anna, we met at our regularly scheduled time, on Zoom. Nick was not his usual, humorous, cheerful self, but this was understandable, as he had just finished mowing his lawn and was hot and tired. After he asked for my forgiveness about not being dressed as nicely as he usually was, we worked on his issues, as we always had. Our session went well. He naturally made sure to make his payment, he expressed his gratitude for my support, and we wished each other a good night and a good week. Until we would meet again, the next week, on the same day, at the same time.
Sadly, we would not meet again in this lifetime. The next week, just 15 minutes before our scheduled session time, I found out that Nick had passed away, the day after our last session. I was shocked and so sad. The graveside service was going to be open to all friends and family the next day, and after inquiring if his family would be comfortable, I made arrangements to be there.
The service was as lovely as he. There were a number of students there, hugging and clinging to one another. I thought about approaching them, but decided to hold back. I wanted to tell them how important they all were to him. I wanted to tell them that he was in a good place, emotionally, when he passed. But I didn’t. I felt the right thing to do was to continue to respect his privacy, and my presence and thoughts may have provoked more questions than would have been appropriate. And then I saw a young woman with her arm around a young man. Even with her mask on, I looked at her eyes, and I felt drawn. I could not and cannot put the feeling into words. It simply was a pull. The kind of pull we feel only a handful of times in life. I asked her for her name. She gladly told me and introduced me to her boyfriend, Josh. This was Anna. Anna. Nick had just talked about her. And here she was, and he was not. And I told her that he spoke so beautifully about her. She figured out who I was and told me that he had shared how much I had helped him. I was so relieved that she knew about me, and that I was not betraying his trust or right to privacy. She was so happy to hear that I knew about her, as well. And so I told her about Nina, my daughter, who passed away in May, 2018. I told Anna that I wanted so badly to tell Nick about Nina, especially because of his affinity for college students, but I hadn’t. I talked about how even though I never did get to tell him about her, he knows about her now. And that Nick and Nina have probably connected, are hanging out together, and making each other laugh.
Later that evening, I received a private message from Anna. Somehow she found me on Facebook. She said that after we parted, her boyfriend, Josh, remembered that two years ago he had been looking for a therapist in the town where I work. He told Anna that he called me and that I told him I wasn’t seeing anyone at the time because I was grieving the passing of my daughter.
And here we are; Anna, Josh, and me. We were perfect strangers last week. And now we are connected through Nick and Nina, who have crossed the veil, and whose lives and legacies continue to impact us. It turns out that Josh contacted me on the day that Nina passed, and I actually responded that very day. He told Anna that he was struck, naturally, that I got back to him that day. I have no memory of this at all, but I believe that I really did respond, in my shock, devastation and the numbness that was required just to breathe.
On May 2, 2018, Anna had not yet met Josh. I had not met Nick. And today, the lessons and the love that Nina and Nick brought us is strengthening our connections to them, and to people here. I don’t know how my friendship with Anna and Josh will evolve, but I do know that if we pay attention, Nina and Nick will show us.
How do I know that meeting Anna and Josh that day was not just a coincidence? I know because of the look in Anna’s eyes, and the strength of the pull to her. Most of all, I know it was not a coincidence, because I told her and Josh about Nina. Somehow, I knew that I had to share. I trusted, and because I did, I have forged beautiful connections, and at the end of the day, human connection is everything.
