A few days after the Lowe’s run, I had cause to wonder if I had lost my mind. 

I was excited to go visit a Sister Thompson, a clever, funny widow from church.  Since it was my first time to her house, I looked up the address in my roster, googled the directions, and called on my way to let her know I was coming.

When I arrived, I was surprised to find an underwear-clad older gentleman answer the door.  He was very friendly; infact, he was so preoccupied talking to the cute baby in my arms, he asked me to repeat myself when I suggested that perhaps I had the wrong address. 

Back in the car seat Levi went, and out he came when I went to knock at the house one street down.  Again, a very nice older gentlemen answered the door, but this time I was glad to recognize him.  How coicindental that Brother Sutherland and I should both be visiting at the same time.  And there was Sister Sutherland, very comfortably preparing black-eyed peas in the kitchen with no Sister Thompson in sight.  Now this was odd. 

When I told them I’d come to see Sister Thompson, Brother Sutherland says she’s lying down, that he’ll see if she’s awake.  Moments later, a kind older woman emerged from the back; I recognized her from church as Sister Sutherland tells her I’ve come to visit with her. She stood cooing at my baby, as I thought to myself:  this wasn’t the Sister Thompson I was expecting.  This was shaping up to be a rather interesting morning. 

Though I arrived tardy to the original Sister Thompson’s home, she let me in, accepted the basil plant I brought, and loved my Levi as much as the other Grandmas and Grandpas that day.

I might have thought about there being more than one Sister Thompson when I looked up the address, but then, I’d have to be “with it” as they say, and as most of you already understand, “with it,” I am not. 

Next time I go visiting, maybe I’ll ask Matt to be my chauffeur.