 In November 1985, after seven months of dealing with a rare form of leukemia, a friend, seeing my distress, paid for me to see a psychic. “Maybe he’ll tell you about your illness.” She was so determined to help me feel better I agreed to go. The man’s office was a pleasant room decorated with Oriental rugs and lots of flowering plants. He greeted me warmly, showed me where to sit at a table, and looked at me intently. “I think I’ll use the cards,” he said. I knew nothing about cards, but I nodded as if I’d made a choice. As he turned them over he told me what they were and what they might mean. None of it seemed important compared to my wanting to know about the illness; nothing he said provided new information. Then, his face lit up, his voice full of excitement. “You’re going to meet a woman. She’s a New Yorker, like you, and the two of you have a lot in common. He talked at length about how amazing she was and what great friends we’d be. His enthusiasm was contagious. “When will I meet her?” “That I can’t tell you,” he said, “but I promise, the two of you will have a deep and lasting friendship.” I left, looking forward to meeting this astonishing person, wondering how and when the almost mythical woman would appear. Days passed. Weeks passed. Months passed. I stopped thinking about her. In 1991 I received a complimentary letter from a woman who’d enjoyed reading my books and liked the work I did with stories and literacy. She wondered if I knew of any teaching positions. I noticed from the return address that she lived about 40 minutes from me so I wrote back, inviting her to come visit. Eventually we arranged a meeting at my house. She walked in the door, uncertain, nervous. I looked at her. Instantly I felt I knew her. The more we talked, the more we realized we had in common, the deeper our conversation. When she left, it suddenly hit me. She was the woman the psychic promised I’d meet. I laughed, excited and pleased to have a friend with whom I could share my work and life. At the same time, I wondered: what took you so long? The psychic was right. He’d described her perfectly. From our first meeting we felt close in ways that cannot be explained by reason. Since then, despite geographical distance, there is no emotional distance; our friendship deepens with every conversation, every email, every visit. Have you ever met someone for the first time, instantly feeling as if you knew them. Are you still friends?
2 Comments
|
Monthly StoriesStories inspired by world tales to challenge and comfort. Archives
December 2024
Categories |
RSS Feed
Copyright © Nancy King 2020 | Site Design by Angulo Marketing & Design
|
|
Nancy King is a widely published author and a professor emerita at the University of Delaware, where she has taught theater, drama, playwriting, creative writing, and multidisciplinary studies with an emphasis on world literature. She has published seven previous works of nonfiction and five novels. Her new memoir, Breaking the Silence, explores the power of stories in healing from trauma and abuse. Her career has emphasized the use of her own experience in being silenced to encourage students to find their voices and to express their thoughts, feelings, and experiences with authenticity, as a way to add meaning to their lives.
|