I am not religious, not even sure I believe in God, but I AM getting more and more "spiritual" as I age.
Things seem to happen to me in too many mysterious, amazing ways that they do not feel like accidents.
One partial example. My Dad is dead now but years ago, when I was still a dreamer, I asked him, "What did you REALLY want to do with your life, Dad?" and his answer, without any historical context was mind-bogglingly odd.
"I always wanted a little small-holding in Ipswich."
This was a steelworker from South Wales! Why a small-holding in Ipswich?
A few months ago I had a phone call from a woman asking if my Dad was "Ron Jones, RAF, born approx 1918"
He was all three.
"Well," said the lady, "My mother was born-out-of-wedlock from a liaison between HER mother and this RAF chappie..."
Gran was a WRAF. Are we getting warm here?
So I do my research. Gran served in East Anglia, but nobody knows where. BUT my research (I got my father's war records) suggested he never went NEAR Ipswich.
Then, while teaching a creative writing course in Wales,I got an email from a chap who served in my father's unit in WWII. This chap was actually on the same Landing Craft as my Dad going in to North Africa.
Interesting, spiritual, warm, life-filling (but no Ipswich)
Then accidentally I deleted the email and emptied my trash.
Took a week to find the guy again and we chat on the phone and he says, "When we were posted FROM IPSWICH to Loch Fyne"
I get an out of print book on the 3202 Servicing Commando from Alibris and there, sure enough, they trained at Ipswich before their commando training in Scotland.
Oh WOW, I may have a half-sister somewhere.
I once won a story comp (£300 thank-you) and the story title was, "Spectacles, Testicles, Wallet & Watch"
The name of the book I bought?
"Spectacles, Testicles, Fags & Matches."