War and Pieces of Kismet

 When I was in college, Russia and things Russian were an integral part of the culture  of our country.  As an English major with a minor in social studies, that meant the required reading of every thousand-page Russian novel ever written, as well as the political treatises and theories of past and current Russia.  So I can't say for sure where I encountered the theory of chaos; it may have been collateral damage from trying to make sense of "War and Peace,"  or it may have sprung from another source entirely.  But I recall its being something like this:   The study of history, or even cause and effect, is intrinsically flawed and therefore essentially worthless, because there are so many actions taking place at any given time, that humans can isolate only a few out of millions of factors that may bear responsibility for the occurrence of any given event.  The world is essentially a pit of chaos, with no rhyme or reason behind what happens.  Humans attempt to make sense out of life by categorizing a small number of  the multitude of occurrences of nature, or the lives of only a few out of a population of millions, in order to assert a semblance of control over life.  Chaos reigns and man's attempt to create a history is like sorting sand.  Select a narrow path, and ignore the overwhelming ocean of unrelated events.  I don't give this theory nearly as much credence as I did when I was a college sophomore, but I think of how the media selects a paltry few stories to report ad nauseam, thereby ignoring thousands and thousands of other occurrences that would be equally newsworthy, but since there is only so much time to devote, they go with the tried and true "facts" and willingly disregard other events.  Similarly, success stories of victories  over disease, and mystical experiences are documented, with the idea that what humans do can control outcomes, never mind the poor souls who succumb to adversity despite valiant efforts, strong will and prayer.  Try to make sense of the violent  slaughter of children, or the horror of innocent childen battling and succumbing to fatal disease.  The only valid explanation is a world beset by chaos.  A search for the good in such events can not exist. Again, the theory of Chaos. 
    
PRACTICAL APPLICATION AND PAYBACK!
        So intellectually I do not believe in Karma, but I do note the incidence of coincidence.  Ergo:
                                     It was very hard to do anything for Dorothy.  She was a fiercely independent individual in many respects.  Try to repay her for an expense which she may have incurred on your behalf, and she could find a hundred ways to "refund your money."   She would shove the cash back in your pocket, leave it on the TV, or even toss it in your door as she was leaving your house.  When she toured Ireland, with funding just starting to be an issue for her, I made her take some "mad money," just to spend any way she wished for the trip of her lifetime.  She accepted it, but she returned with gifts for everyone, in at least the amount given her.  When last year, she asked me what  my Derby  pick was, I gave her some betting money, and chose Animal Planet.  He won, and though I told her I didn't want any of the winnings, I found the full payoff amount in an envelope she had hidden in my pocketbook.  We always watched, or at least coordinated, American Idol.  For several years, we entered the AI pool at Marilyn's school.  Neither of us ever shared in any of the winnings.  This year, though my heart wasn't in it, I didn't even watch all the shows, but ended up winning the first place pot anyway.  When Marilyn handed me the envelope with the winnings, a modest amount, I took out the 2 twenty-dollar bills and asked her to make a memorial contribution or have Mass said in Dorothy's honor.  That was last week.   Today I was attempting to sort through the chaos in my own home, and was going through some of her old handbags, which had been stored in her, and now my, garage.  I'd looked through them before, in consideration of discarding or donating them, but for whatever reason, they ended up here.  It should be noted that there was no cash in Dorothy's house when she left us; her purse on the kitchen counter contained three dimes and a few pennies.  No money in the cabinets, dressers, nothing. ( Only an overlooked booklet of U.S. State Coins.) Today when I looked into one of her purses again, there in the side pocket, were 2 crisp twenty-dollar bills.