223

There are a lot of entry things to do and I want to record it all so I do not forget what I'm experiencing. But one thing I wanted to share was when we checked into the hotel on Friday (after thinking we were not going to check into a hotel, we'd stay with my mom, but no. Not a good choice) Linda, Jess and I were walking to the elevator. 

We had secured the absolute last room in the hotel and I was happy to get it. A king bed with a sleeper sofa. Linda wanted the sleeper, and Jess and I would use the bed. 

Lin asked me "What room are we in," as we walked very tiredly down the hall.

"223," I answered.

She stopped in her tracks, looked over her shoulder and asked "what?"

"223. Room 223." 

"That was Dad's room at the hospital. That's the room number where he died."

She seemed completely shook about it and I laughed "THAT'S SO AWESOME!"  I yelled. 

She said "it's a sign. It's totally a sign." 

Maybe. We got really lucky to get a room. And if Dad or the universe was letting us know. Well. Thanks. Everyone. 

More to come. I have lots to update.