When Getting Lost is a Good Thing!

So,  as I mentioned yesterday,  we drove into Scranton, Pa., last night. I was just too tired and emotional to share this part of the drive, until now.

I was born in Scranton, Pa. nearly sixty years ago. I did not live there long, as my parents provided a bit of a gypsy lifestyle for me and my siblings. When we were young, we went back to visit extended family often, but once we moved to California, those visits ceased; it was just too far, and too costly.
Some of our extended family continued to visit us throughout the years, but as life happens, our physical communication became less and less as time marched on; but we always stayed in contact through letters with photos, and occasional phone calls. I know this may seem barbaric with today's instant and constant communication opportunities, but when I was a child, phone calls were very expensive, and a special treat, so they were saved for holidays, special occasions or bad news.

My dear sweet mother, and my nanny.

Now, to understand why the next part of this story is so remarkable, I must tell you a little bit about my past. My mother's mother was my "Nanny". My Nanny was the most important person in my world; she loved me more than any person has ever loved me, and she died when I was only six years old. I do not remember much of my young childhood, but I do remember how she made me feel; her love was profound.

I cannot put into words this feeling, but what I can tell you is that as I am writing about her, there are tears streaming down my face. I have never been able to talk about her, without tears in my eyes, and an ache in my heart. The sadness that I feel over losing her, has never gone away. Just try and imagine how remarkable she must have been to have left such an impression, on such a little girl.

Anyway, back to my story.....my nanny has a sister; my Aunt Helen. Technically, she was my mother's aunt, but she has also always been my aunt, and her five children, my cousins. My Aunt Helen (almost 94), has always been dear to both my mother and me, and we have stayed in contact, throughout the years. My mother's greatest wish, before she passed away, was to go back east to see my Aunt Helen, and my Aunt Barbara and Uncle Ron. She also wanted to visit my sister's gravesite; this never happened. She was never well enough to travel.

So, we are making this trip to fulfil not only my heart but to honour my mother's wishes, too. I have not been to Scranton in over forty years, and not to my nanny's house in fifty-three; a very long time ago.

My Nanny's house.

As we approached Scranton, our GPS began going crazy and there were so many streets, routes, highways and interstates that we were both confused and frustrated, and did not know which way to turn. Since Joe was doing the actual driving, I was trying my best to navigate.

We ended up taking a wrong turn, and when we were getting ready to turn around,  I saw Moosic Street; my heart jumped,  I said, "WAIT! That is the street that my nanny lived on!" Now you must remember that I have not been on that street since I was six years old! I asked Joe if we could please, just keep driving down the street; I am pretty sure he thought I was nuts, but he obliged.

Exactly the same!

As we continued down that street, I just knew in my heart of hearts, right where her house was going to be, so I just kept watching as we passed house after house, and right at the bottom of the hill, just as I remembered there it was; in the exact spot I expected, looking exactly the same as I remembered; it was so surreal.

 I was shocked; as it has been so, so long. The last time I was there, was right before she died at 56 years old, from pancreatic cancer. I just cannot get over how my mind recalled those memories, so accurately. It was as if I had been there only yesterday.

 I knew that I would have to return the next day to take photos, but right now we had to find our hotel.

Ironically, our GPS picked up our location, and we realized that we were only a short five miles from our destination. Gratefully, we did not have to backtrack and get on the highway and navigate all of those busy roads. I silently thanked my Mom for diverting our route, joining me on this journey, and leading us safely to our destination.

After checking in and getting situated, I signed onto the internet and checked my mail; there was an email with a contract that I needed to electronically sign. As I proceeded to the bottom of the contract, I hit the "sign electronically" button, and before I could even touch the keyboard, to sign my name, "Ann Marie Bielik" popped onto the signature line; for those of you that do not know, that is my mother's name! Needless to say, I was astounded; I showed it to Joe and he just shook his head, with a bewildered look.

We have no "logical" explanation why her name appeared on that signature line; I had not spoken her name out loud, she had never used my iPad, and I had never written her full name on my pad either.
We just truly believe that it was her way of letting us know that she was with us on this trip; and that she was very happy that we were there.

Stranger things have happened, right?

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