A never ending time slip

I think that when there are outside stresses on someone’s mind, the mind itself begins to bend a bit. Perhaps even open up to other worldly thoughts.. maybe the very existence of order is tarnished, or tattered. Perhaps, at times if the stresses are so great, the notions of what one finds important in life are vanquished. 

I had a moment like this myself in 2013. It was just after my father’s birthday in December when he was rushed to the hospital. Thus began a 7-day period of high strangeness and a reevaluation of what mattered, what debates were important, and what subject matter actually meant something in my life.

 A few things occurred beyond his sickness and recovery. During that week, several odd events took place, events that I could only describe as persistent continuous, and often bothersome, time slips. Not only was my father, on the verge of losing all oxygen, saying he was fighting off shadow spirits—before he was rushed to the hospital, this was a tip off that something was very, very wrong—but other events happened to my and family members. And we, as far as I know, were filled with the correct oxygen levels when said things happened. Things like phone and photographic anomalies… and other little strange nuggets of not-normalcy. Perhaps one day I’ll go into it more, but for now I’ll leave it at this: The only thing I could conjure after going through the events, even some that took place after Dad was back home, was that it was a massive amount of timeline mistakes, time slips.. Keep in my, this whole hospital stay happened the same week that Nelson Mandela died. Again. If you believe he died before and millions of people mistakenly witnessed it in the wrong time line.

 The reason I bring any of this up right now is because, as things go, strange momentary lapses of reason occur when you least expect it. As happened to my the other day in Dunkin Donuts while I was waiting for my iced coffee.

 I saw an older women there who looked strikingly familiar. I could not place the why or where, but I knew I saw her before and her face was important in my life. I think, for some strange reason, she was drawn to mine as well.

 Nine times out of ten, I would never have said a word. But in this matter, both of us seemed to desire to speak up. And we both did around the same second of time, asking each other “how do I know you?” with a serious look taking over our faces.

 And each of us went through potential reasons.. “What school did you go to?” No, that’s not it.. “Where are you from?” Not that either.. “where do you work?” That hit the nail.

 While this woman had no reason to know me by where I worked, when she said where she was employed, things got more bizarre.

 She was a nurse at the hospital my father stayed at in 2013 while he recovered.. A few seconds later, she told me, “I know you now. You were just there to see your dad a few weeks back and I walked by you in the hallway on the way back to his room.” Actual quote. I will never forget it.

She went on to say, “Room 317.” She said she remembered my dad since it was so recent, she even described him as an older gentlemen with a beard. Correct. 

But time wise.. off big time.

 I was taken aback a bit. I responded, kindly, “I knew we’d figure it out,” dodging the overall issue at hand: I was not in the hospital a few weeks ago with my father, and certainly was not passing her by in a hallway.

 After this talk, I grabbed my coffee and just a bit shaken, I called my sister. I asked her to tell me what room Dad was in when he was at the hospital—I didn’t tell her why. She replied, “317.”

Now I was chilled.
I went on to explain the reason I asked.. I went on to say how this 2013 event—an event that I already felt was filled with time anomalies and high strangeness—had one more to go, apparently. Because this good nurse I saw in Dunkin Donuts saw me, only weeks ago, visiting my Dad in that room.

 So I was left, after all of this, with a hot cup of coffee and time to ponder if she was right. If she did seem me, only weeks ago. Or if she was wrong—wrong by two years now.

 Does time go so fast you forget where in a timeline you are? Or can a timeline botch up, a time slip, be so long lasting that the final movement of the tail end is still wiggling with mistakes?

Call my nuts, call my crazy.. A few friends do when I explain some of these things..

But I submit to you that I am being honest in this entire post. I am still perplexed and trying to logically conclude what the many examples of my personal 2013 timeline issues were. And now added to the mixture: The moment in Dunkin Donuts when I was told 2013 happened only a few weeks back..