The following event happens to me every once in a while, and each time I find it eerie, even creepy, but I always follow through on it because every time there is an important outcome.

Last night (or very early this morning) as I was in the half-awake, half-asleep state, I dreamed of an old friend. I lost touch with her many years ago because of life-altering events which affected her, and a life-changing event for me at nearly the same time. Not terribly surprising, since we share a birthday a year apart.

We were very close for many years and I have missed her terribly since we parted. We were like sisters. If you have a sibling or a very close friend with whom you share your life (aside from your spouse), you know what I mean. I have tried to find her many times under her married name, but you know how hard it is to find women, when our society expects them to change their last names to reflect the patriarchal format.

Then I tried to find her sons, figuring that they wouldn't have changed their names, but they have frequently-used names and the search bogged down. They may have left southern California, or even the country, for all I know. So that was a dead end, as well.

And then last night in my sleep I called her by her maiden name. It's very unusual and I remembered it right away (and spelled it correctly, a feat unto itself). When i woke up this morning I put her maiden name (I hate that expression--I prefer "birth name") into www.zabasearch.com and there she was. I knew it was she, because the site had her middle initial (which I hadn't remembered but recognized immediately) and her correct birth month and year.

Well, I didn't think calling her at 5 a.m. would endear me to anybody, so I waited until 9 a.m. and sure enough, it was my beloved friend on the other end of the phone. She lives about 40 miles from me, and has for many years. She dropped her husband's name as so many do when things fall apart and we (women) are reminded of who we really are (not just adjuncts of a male ego). I would do the same, but it would hurt and frighten him, so let it be, I say. My ego is strong enough to endure existing under a name not my own.

She and I have a lot to catch up on, some tears, some smiles and especially some fences to be mended, bridges to be built--pick your metaphor.

Moral of the story: if you have a hunch, an intuition, follow up on it. Who know where it may lead?