Her name is Janey.
I have known her since I was born. She was Dan's age and hung around with him at Camp Nelson.
Her mom was one of my mom's best friends.
I have pictures of her mom with my mom and my aunt when they were teenagers.
And I hadn't heard from her (or she from me) in years.
It turns out that a couple of weeks ago, she sold a house for a client. (She is a realtor) And as a thank you the client took her and her sister Julie out to dinner. The client is elderly and had sold the family home so his daughter was with him.
As they talk over dinner, the daughter asks if they had ever heard of Camp Nelson. DUH??
Then the daughter tells of all the times that they went to her mother's cousin's cabin there. It was on a cul-de sac and had a soda spring nearby.
So Janey asks if they know anyone by the name of Gisvold.
Well, she is talking to the descendants of my grandmother's cousin. And neither knew that before the sale of the home!
So today, Janey calls me. She tracked me down even though I don't use my maiden name much anymore.
An hour later, I hang up the phone, awash is fabulous memories and a strong reminder of how wonderful Janey is.
Six degrees of separation.
But here it was even less.
So now I will catch up with my relatives.
It is amazing to me that the little town of Lindsay (and the littler town of Strathmore) can reach across thousands of miles and many decades to bring people together.
It is just sooooo cool!