So here is the awesome thing.....

In 2001, when my life was not turning out the way it was supposed to, I took a six month, temporary assignment across the country. A few weeks after I arrived, I was pleasantly surprised to see a very friendly face from home.  Her name was Jo, and at 60, she had both retired and became a widow in the span of a few months.  Since her circumstances had changed too, she had taken a short term assignment as well, and we ended up living in the same hotel.

Jo was a delight.  She helped me gain perspective on my situation, and we explored the city and the surrounding area together.  We laughed, a lot.  Maybe a bit of that was helped by gin and tonic, her drink of choice, and one that I learned to enjoy as well.  Mostly though, it's because she was fearless and willing to try just about anything.  In fact, one of my favourite memories is of her trying to rollerblade in a parkade.     Did I mention she was on the plus side of 60?   Oh my gosh, it was a hilarious day.

Fast forward a few years.  Jo became ill, and eventually, we lost her too, to cancer.  That was a very sad time for me, for she had become so important to me. In my selfishness as I dealt with my own grief, I never got around to sending a card to her family thanking them for how she impacted my life.  I regretted that, especially since her last name was one of those very common names that made it impossible to find an address to send a card to when I did want to get around to it.

So imagine my surprise when we are sitting around our 'welcome' dinner with the rest of the students from our course.  We did the usual round table--who were we, why were we there, where did we work? One of the ladies said "Actually, my sister and I think you worked with our mom".

Truthfully, I didn't exactly register that their mom was Jo.  I mean, how could that be?  I was in a little town in France.  Our group had 9 people.  We were two of them.  And Jo's two daughters were two more.

I cried.  And we laughed.  And we told stories, and laughed some more.

It was one of the most singularly spectacular moments of my life.