Nanette

It happens like a dream. The phone rings. I knew your father, she explains. We went to religious school together, growing up, she continues, and your grandfather was our family doctor. Your cousins told me you were living here in Montreal and gave me your number. Did you know I had a crush on your father? He was so good looking and such a nice boy. The last time we saw each other was when I was seventeen, before I moved to New York.

Nanette left Jackson, Mississippi and became a Harley riding rock star in Quebec. I can't get it out of my head, the times throughout my life that my father shared his dream of being in a band, with his long hair blowing in the wind on his harley.

Our connection was strong from the beginning. And after our three hour lunch and two bottles of wine, it grew stronger. It's one of those connections that feel brought on by a much higher power. I say that my dad, with nine years in the grave, must've had something to do with this. He said to me, this woman, this Nanette is the other life I also wanted to live. I didn't get a chance to be with her, so I want you in her life. Here she is. Now be friends.

So, friends we are, or more strangely, ghost family. The mother and daughter we might have been have found each other.