In the final chapter of Carol’s Lives: Chapter 21, It Doesn’t End, I wrote:
Though the functionality of the room has been changed a few times over the past twenty years, and the furniture updated and moved around, especially after the space was turned into a hypnotherapy room, these two paintings have not changed their positions on the wall. It is in those moments that I cannot help but feel that maybe, in our pre-life agreement, Tim was to come in and set the stage, and I would come in and play.
The hypnotherapy room back in the day was a room in my spacious 2-bedroom home. By the time I was finishing the first draft of the book, we were still living in it, and still thought we’d live in it as far as we could perceive, as was said in my book chapter 8, The One Who Travels:
The apartment that Tim intended to keep for only three more months back in 2007, we still live in to this day. Life has its own ironic plan for everything. It is easier and more fulfilling to follow life’s path for us than to resist it. Even though the mind generally does not quite understand this magical simplicity of life itself.
Things continued to unfold in their natural course.
Things continued to unfold in their natural course. Right at the time I was finalizing the book, we moved – Just as “life has its own ironic plan for everything”. I started to work in an office downtown, and we moved our home to another place closer to my office. Who would know how things happen as it happens? Looking back, everything was smoothly perfect, even though we didn’t see it when we went through the process.
We love our new home dearly. And we miss that apartment we lived and worked for many years. Sometimes the mind wonders who would be the next to move into that beautiful suite right by Stanley Park.
One day I was in my office. Between clients, I normally keep my door open. Someone came to knock on the open door. I raised my head from my desk. A man with a mask on (pandemic special view) said apologetically, “Sorry you don’t know me. I am…” then he went very straightforwardly, “… the person who lives in the same suite you lived.” My mind raced. Seeing my puzzling face, he went on, “20xx Nelson Street.”
“Oh! How come!” I exclaimed. “How do you know I lived there? And how come you are here?” The floor that my office is on is not openly accessible to people without a card key.
So ZJ explained his big company is in the same office building, and they rented a small office on this floor. That day as he was waiting for the elevator, he saw my office sign and recognized my name, a name that he periodically saw on the envelopes of mails in his mailbox.
No matter how many months we had to prepare for mail address change, we still end up having some mails delivered to the old address. I’m sure we all have experienced that.
“I gave those mails to the building manager Roselyn. Maybe I’ll collect and deliver to you here in the future.” ZJ said.
“Yes please!” How delightful! “I’m so glad that I have the name I have,” I said, “so you recognized it easily,” I asked ZJ how he liked his new home. “Oh, it’s so beautiful, such a special place!” I told ZJ Tim lived there for over 20 years. Young ZJ dropped his jaw.
“We decided to move as we realized it was time, and the kitchen became a little too lack of counter space for our gourmet needs.” I said. ZJ nodded his head. Suddenly I felt as I was speaking with a family member of sorts. After all, it’s the same space, though different times.
What are the odds? Life is so sweet.
The next day, as I was coming out of the elevator heading to my office, ZJ was going up to his company floor with a laptop in his hand. He called me from behind, “I have some mails for you.”
ZJ went back to Roselyn and retrieved all the postal mails that were sent to the old address, including a cheque from the government. I was still amazed.
“Let me know if there’s anything else I can do,” ZJ said as he went out.
“Well, if it’s not for the pandemic, you could host a belated House Warm Party and invite Tim and me!” I jokingly said.
“We’ll see.” ZJ laughed on his way out.
