Happy Monday! I hope your week was a good one. Besides whacking Chinese privet and reading Kakalak submissions last week, I stumbled into a moment of joy. Friday evening was supposed to be this month’s Prayer for Peace gathering, but as I approached the fountain park where it’s held, I heard music–loud, live music–and smelled food. Apparently when the organizers of the gathering scheduled our event, they weren’t aware Rock Hill was holding its Third Friday Festival at the same location at the same time.

Their event began at 6:00 and by the time I arrived around 6:30, it was already in full swing. Fountain Park is a city block long and wide with a gorgeous fountain at one end and a stage at the other. In between is an expanse of artificial grass that was filled Friday evening with hundreds of festival-goers dancing, sitting in chairs, strolling along the sidewalks, chasing little ones … The side streets were blocked off and filled with food trucks selling pizza, ice cream, BBQ, chicken … There were people of all ages, race, ethnicity, dressed in everything from hajibs to barely-there shorts and tank tops. The band was lively playing songs I knew!

Those of us who planned on participating in a reflective prayer for peace quickly realized that wasn’t going to happen. What we pray for each month was happening in real time all around us and we felt the joy, the hope, the sense of community.

In the book, The Celestine Prophecy, author James Redfield writes there’s no such thing as coincidence. I think Friday evening during our time set aside to pray for peace and community, we were reminded hope, joy, and peace are still present.

So, what does that have to do with the title of this post? Actually, nothing other than the idea of coincidence.

My family and I moved to the Carolinas about 40 years ago and of course one of the first things I did was visit the local library. Shortly after, the library organized a community read. I don’t remember the book we read, but I remember meeting Betty. Our meeting wasn’t a coincidence.

Betty is a former professor of literature at the local branch of the University of SC, and the ringleader for what became the Rowdy Readers, my reading group. It began with three of us–Betty, Susan, and me. Per Betty’s suggestion, the first book we read as a trio was The Round-Heeled Woman a memoir by Jane Juska. Jane was a 66-year-old English teacher who placed a personal ad seeking sexual encounters, leading to intimate adventures and frank reflections on late-life romance. (Amazon) Betty was probably in her fifties at the time and happily married.

The book was a wonderful romp and great discussion starter. Years later a fourth friend was invited to join our little group, and we insisted she read the book as an initiation. She insisted her husband read it too, and he’s the one who christened us The Rowdy Readers. Most of our books didn’t fall into that category. Though some have …

The very next book we read was The Singular Pilgrim by Rosemary Mahoney, the book that set me on the path to walking El Camino de Santiago 30+ years later. As you can tell, our reading spanned quite the literary spectrum.

Over the years we’ve read biographies and other memoirs, Dinners with Ruth about Ruth Bader Ginsburg was one I reviewed here. We’ve read cozy murder mysteries set in the Lowcountry, Lowcountry Boil by Susan M. Boyer, and The No.1 Ladies Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith, set in Botswana. There’s been a healthy balance between fiction and non-fiction. Some of our favorite fiction is Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society, Lincoln in the Bardo, and Dictionary of Lost Words; for non-fiction, Being Mortal, Quiet, and Visual Intelligence.

Thanks to Betty and Susan who keep up with the Booker Mann Prize winners and other resources, my book cases are filled with books I probably would’ve never picked up.

But our lives over the years filled with other things, too: cancer, divorce, a son becoming a SC governor, the birth of another son. The above photo was taken at the book signing for my poetry collection. We are more than book reading friends.

A couple years ago, Betty’s daughter joined our group whenever she traveled from PA to check on her mom. Betty loved to travel, especially to Asia. Just before Christmas, Betty traveled to a memory care facility close to her son. Last week Susan and I visited with her while her daughter was here. Betty still knew us, knew we’re connected by books and love, but I’m not sure how long she’ll remember.

In January, Nancy–whose Hubby christened us–also moved. She and said Hubby moved into a retirement village closer their sons, and further from Susan and me. We plan to visit her later this summer.

We knew that one day our Rowdy Readers would disband, but we’d hoped there’d be a goodbye celebration with cake, hugs, and a final group photo. This goodbye was softer, yet with enough laughter and rowdiness to hold onto our name.

Next Monday is Memorial Day already! Wasn’t it just Christmas?! I’ll still be here at my window honoring those men and women who sacrificed for our country. I hope you’ll stop by. This week may you stumble into moments of joy, good books, and a bit of rowdiness to keep life interesting.