I apologize if I did not speak to you at the mall...

I was given new evidence of The Fog Machine O' Grief at church Sunday morning. I had taken a lone seat on a back row pew, and was soon approached by a smiling, elderly woman. She called me by name and asked me to come sit with her and her husband so I wouldn't have to sit alone. My daughter, in her recent move to a new state, has convinced me of the value of saying "YES!" to all invitations when you are trying to meet new people.

I followed this sweet lady back to her pew, shook hands with her husband, and then settled back to try and figure out who in the world she was. She kept carrying on a friendly conversation, asking me very specific questions about my life and my children. I glanced at the name printed on her Bible and willed myself to remember it. The conversation got around to my GriefShare class right as the service began and talking stopped. I thanked her after the service for her kindness, and hightailed it home to check out my GriefShare class directories. I didn't see her name on the spring roster, but found out on the fall list that she had been a leader of my class. For 4 months. And I did not recognize her.

That makes me feel last fall must have been like an out of body experience: getting through, marking the days, willing the calendar pages to turn, and waiting for my brains to begin generating memory and thoughts again. I think I have a little better grasp on the reason that I was the only one who was "invited" (read that: strongly suggested) to return for a second session of the class.

And this time? I know everyone's names and faces. We only have two more classes, but I think I may graduate this time.

Maybe spring does make all things new.