My parents were living in a small town when my mother died.
I decided that we (me, my brother, and my father) should do something that mom loved so we went to Bingo. About 3 games in my brother won. “Great”, I thought “this makes tonight special”.
What are the odds? We have our little wake and my brother wins but in my mind what would make it truly magical is if I win also.
I start concentrating like I have magical powers and I can make myself win at bingo. A couple of games go by and nothing happens so I say to myself, “don't be a fool, your brother winning was enough”.
But then the sixth game comes around... and I don't win again. Shit, I need to accept reality.
Bingo! I win the seventh game. The night is now officially magical.
I don't know about God or the universe or anything else but I know magic exists and that in times of grief you can summon your personal magic to win at bingo.
And there's nothing more beautiful than that.