The older I get, the more I am convinced that the universe is speaking to me, although I’m not yet old or wise enough to understand the messages.  I’m referring to six-degrees of separation, and genealogy, and coincidences of all kinds, those kinds of connections that are apt to increase the more years we spend on earth. I understand logic; I believe in the scientific method; I am open to theories involving manifestations of energy in all its forms.  Yet, I can’t help thinking that some of these messages are personal, and that I am meant to pursue the meaning behind them — and perhaps, to act.

Through my genealogical discoveries, I find I have relatives near and far without looking very hard.  With French-Canadian ancestry, it’s kind of a game to find descendents from a relatively small immigrant group of 10,000.  But what to make of the fact that, dominated as my parenting life has been by hockey, I’m related to at least a few of the most famous hockey players: Mario Lemieux, Ray Bourque, Maurice “The Rocket” Richard.  Perhaps I should not have been surprised to find relatives in the South – Louisiana and Texas. But bloodlines linking me to Beyonce, the music star with Acadian roots, and Marie Laveau, the “Voodoo Queen” of New Orleans?  Marie and I descend from the same Rivard ancestors, one of whom followed the Mississippi south.  Through the internet, I met a man living not 45 minutes from here whose g-g grandfather was the brother of my g-g grandfather – and traveled from Canada to Rutland, VT together – this is the g-g grand-uncle who fought in the Civil War.  One of my writing group partners is half-Canadian French, and I was able to trace our family connection – through the Breton and Gagnon lines.  Of course, we are ALL related, but I’m a bit spooked by all these hidden connections that come so easily to light. Who am I, really, and what does it mean I share blood with all these people?

Then there’s the voice of Gil Scott-Heron, a spoken word/musician artist/activist, who died earlier this year.  I’d met him once, years ago in UC/Santa Cruz, when he was performing and I was house manager at the theater.  I never really knew much about him, or his music, but I remember very well the sound of his voice. He later had drug problems, and health problems, and kind of faded away. Then, recently, I heard a new rap/hip hop song on the radio, “Take Care” with Drake and Rihanna, and in the middle is a sample – a piece of music taken from another recording.  And after 30 years, I know the voice, Gil Scott-Heron, and it’s like he’s standing next to me again, waiting to go on stage.  And, like he’s dead, but not really dead, and wants to tell me something.

Finally, Jack, a friend, not close, who died an untimely death. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to go to his service, but another friend did. A woman, who I’d been friendly with for a long time, but hadn’t seen much of lately. And, out of the blue, she called up to invite us to join her family for Thanksgiving – if we were available. We weren’t since we were hosting the meal here, but I was so touched at her gesture. She told me she was inspired by something she’d heard at Jack’s service, about his reaching out, and including others, and making connections.  What a beautiful legacy.  Just following this conversation, I received an on-line invitation to make a connection on “LinkedIn”, the business networking site – from Jack, although he’d been dead already for days.