Not Taking Any Chances

My mom says it was meant to be. I call it a coincidence. Whatever you call it, I'm not taking any chances. Two weeks ago for Memorial Day weekend I went to California to see the new additions to dad's side of the family. I was there all weekend and enjoyed my stay since I haven't seen them since my grandma's 1 year death anniversary. When I got back home, I was too lazy to unpack my bag and it stayed on my floor for a week. Little did I know that I'll be using the contents of that bag a week later. Interesting enough, what was left in my bag were two black shirts. My mom said it was meant to be that I go back to California for PJ's funeral. I got back into town yesterday morning and I am not taking any chances. I unpacked my bags, put away my clean clothes, and placed the bag in the closet. This is one sign I don't want to repeat the results. We are trying to break our bad luck. It seems that every time something good happens in our lives, the complete opposite happens. We didn't wear black for his funeral. We celebrated his life and we are hoping this will be the last time we say good bye to a loved one for a long time. Rest in peace dear cousin.