I knew a little bit about it.
I knew that she had to sell the van to pay for her uncles funeral services, as he had recently gotten sick and passed on.
I didn’t tell her this, of course, but there were times that I thanked him for helping me, both before and after I was able to make it one and a half hours north to buy the van from Deanne.
We’ve kept in contact since my purchase, just simple stuff, asking if there was a key she didn’t know what it was too on her keychain, probably round – the square one doesn’t work for the doors.
There was. She sent it to me, and it was the right key. groovy.
Then, in thanking her, I recieve this reply:
“I’m so glad that was the key! Send me some pics of the van when you get it fixed up, I’d like to see what it looks like – if you have a digital camera. I’m sure my Uncle had something to do with you getting that van and taking it to California – he wanted to go there too. I’m sure your trip will be a success!
You take care of yourself too & GOOD LUCK!!!
I am continually awestruck, humbled, and at the same time, really turned on and in love with the way Universe works when I believe in it, and let go of my fears knowing that what is supposed to happen, always, without question, will.
There is a Zen saying – “Leap, and the net will appear.”
I’ve spent most of my life leaping.
Though this has sometimes really frustrated and worried the hell out of people who look at me like I’m a complete idiot when I tell them that I don’t have a plan, I do believe that most of them are coming around, or already have – even my parents.
Things just work out. I don’t force them, I put my intentions out and pay attention to life, and I am thankful for absolutely everything – even the things that bring me the deepest sorrow –
and I feel that I am truly smiled upon, by simply believing that absolutely everything is magick.
Well, everything except mosquitoes. There’s no magick in mosquitoes at all.
Anyway, back to the story.
I really appreciate all the suggestions for naming my van, but though I was really endeared with many of them, the van now has a name – and Deanne assured me that he would love me naming the van after him.
It’s name of The Van is now Connie – short for Conrad Mathew Eagan, the man who gave it to me in his passing.
She used to call him Uncle C.
I’ll use that when I’m pleading with him to make it over the mountains.
This is him, taken in January.
Thanks, Uncle C.
And yeah – that’s the corner of the van in the background.