Many years ago, when my kids were young, I got a phone call, it was a wrong number. Now normally when this happens you typically say, “sorry you’ve got the wrong number” and hang up, but in this case something took over and we ended up chatting, for over an hour.

Her name was Mary Ann, she was a mom to 3 kids, basically the same ages as mine. It was an easy conversation like we had been friends forever. Turned out that she was part of the organizing committee for, The Parenting Conference, held annually in Ottawa. The conference brought in a fabulous guest speaker and many of those in the know, on the subject of parenting. And, as it turned out, I was also going, as an attendee.

We decided that after we’d chatted for so long, we should meet up and have lunch together at the conference. So it was a date.

The day arrived. With over a 1000 people in attendance, during the lunch break, it was like the seas parted and there she was! We didn’t have cell phones, so a picture of each other ahead of time was not a thing, but somehow I knew it was her. It was the most incredible experience. It was like we had found each again, a relationship nurtured from another time, We decided to find a private space to talk.

We hugged, laughed, cried and hugged again. I had found my old friend from when, I do not know, but I knew without a doubt, she was definitely an old friend.

After that day, we continued the friendship. Our children met one another and became friends and still remain friends to this day. One of her daughters became my youngest daughter’s roommate, another one her daughters and my son are the best of friends into their 30’s.

When I was first invited to her home, her youngest daughter, who was 5 at the time, stuck to me like glue. I found the familiarity strange like somehow she and my relationship was special and was going to continue to be so. It was like she already knew that back then and it was me that needed to catch up.

The years went by and we spent time in each others homes, met each others extended family, my kids went to their summer camp and I went to their church retreat two years running for a weekend. We cooked together, encouraged one another and expanded our friendships with each others friends.

In 2001, Mary Ann was diagnosed with breast cancer. A devastating event for her and her family and also for me as her friend. She called me one day to tell me that she had gone into town to see the surgeon, whom she had never met. “He wasn’t big on small talk,” she said, and promptly asked her to undress so that he could examine her breasts. She told me she said to him, “normally when a man feels my breasts, we’ve been out on a few dates and I know his first name.” He looked at her and paused for a moment, cleared his throat, and told her his first name. She replied, “nice to meet you, carry on.”

On another occasion, she called to tell me that a member of her congregation at her church had called to ask her if she was terminal. “For gods sakes she said, she was a church lady, she should know better!.” She continued, “I used my Monty Python voice and said to her, I’m not dead yet!” Then promptly hung up on her.

On yet another occasion, after watching the movie with Robin Williams, in Patch Adams, she decided to write to him, hoping to connect. He did write back and eventually called her while in Ottawa giving a talk and met up for lunch with her. She was over the moon about that. He lived her spirits and was exactly like the character played by Williams in the movie, she said.

Mary Ann passed away in 2006. About 400 of us attended her funeral and we all wore red noses to mark the occasion. She would have liked that.

A few months after her death I ran into Emily, her youngest daughter and her dad in a toy store downtown. I had been wondering what I could do for their family and realized that day, that way back when, when I went to her home for the first time and was curious as to why Emily was stuck like glue to me, that her and my relationship was being cultivated back then, by Emily. Kids often have way more awareness of themselves and their purpose than us adults. Maybe this was spirit in action all those years ago. Since then I’ve run into her nana who affirms that she is glad I look out for Em. Another signpost that Mary Ann and I were on the right track way back when.

We still hang out once and a while, with a telephone call in between these days, to keep the connection, have great conversations, and keep her memory alive through telling the story to whoever will listen, called The Wrong Number.

Chance meetings and wrong numbers are not by chance, it a sign post that you are on the right path. Some don’t equate to anything except a passing hello, but others mean a lot more. If you are present, see where it takes you, because you never know what spirit has planned for you and you might never know, what you might have missed.