If you had trouble following Piper’s eggs around in yesterday’s posting, you may want to stop reading this now.
Tonight we met Margaret and her daughter Molly for dinner. That’s Joel, our waiter, in the middle.
John met Margaret trekking near Mount Everest nearly 20 years ago.
When I met John, he was compelled to tell me that he knew some other Americans, and wondered if I might know them too. We all seem to do this. Upon meeting a foreigner, if you know anyone else from that person’s country, you will inevitably say “do you know so-and-so?” We ask even though we understand the high improbability of actually knowing someone in common.
So when John launched into his story about trekking in Nepal with his friend Phil, and meeting Americans named Margaret, Matt (her husband), and Josh (her brother-in-law), I did not expect at the end of the story I would say, “I know Josh.” But I did. It was weird. The improbability seemed as high as the Himalayas.
So that is how John knows Margaret. When John moved to the US, we got together with Margaret and Matt, and met their lovely daughter Molly. We have kept in touch over the years. We expressed our sympathies when Margaret’s husband Matt passed away. We’ve been to their house in NH, and Margaret and Molly have been to ours in NJ.
Last year I got to know Molly’s friend Emma, and her mother Meg, when they all visited New York City together.
And on this year’s trip, John and I met Molly and Emma’s friend Sarah too.
Tonight we all had a great dinner at restaurant 44-1/2. We only shared about 2 hours together, but we ate well and enjoyed each others company.
Sometimes friendships grow like weeds. They find an unlikely place as a starting point, and given time, they flourish.
live. enjoy. repeat.