I was preoccupied in the days leading up to our vacation, as it was some sort of a last minute trip. I had to find flights, book a hotel and cancel and book and cancel (yes that's not a typo) find care for our animals, pay bills, stop the newspaper and the mail, etc.
As soon as we arrived at Simon's place, G noticed a lone pen lying on the coffee table.
She said, "look, Miller Funeral homes."
I looked at it, but I did not think anything of it.
The next day, we went to check out Haslam's Bookstore.
I came across a quiet section of the bookstore, and felt a familiar connection to certain old books.
They were books that my dad enjoyed reading.
While I did not actually get to browse through any of the books
(because my family started cajoling me to hurry up) just standing in the section felt oddly comforting.
Suddenly it hit me.
and I remembered the pen sitting on the coffee table.
That evening, I examined it more closely and looked at the website printed on the pen.
When I googled the web address printed on it, sure enough, the pen was from the exact place that handled my dad's viewing and funeral in Rochester, NY.
I had completely forgotten that my dad's five year death anniversary was today.
Of course my logical brain (once in a while, I try) tells me that it is quite possible that one of us took this pen to St. Petersburg, Florida--a few years ago when we stayed here for a wedding--
But.
What are the odds that the transient nature of a promotional pen would survive the countless friends and relatives that have since used this condo?
And, what are the odds that the ONE pen sitting prominently displayed on the coffee table would be THAT pen?
Can the dead really bug us to remember them when we forget?
Can they really reach out from another dimension?
Ever the skeptic, Steve said, "If he wrote a note, then we would be sure."
As for me, the pen was enough.
Perhaps I must use the pen, and see what flows...
And that is why I took the pen home.