What Do These Things Mean?

My mom and dad,
they were only
months apart, born in
June and September of the
same year, respectively.
She left him for a
man three years older than
herself while he was
left with an eternal lover leading him to
an early grave.
While he seems almost
devolved by his absence,
my mother seems to
go on forever, living into
infinity with the
help of that number three.

I hate it, but that's my
lucky number if a name must be
prescribed to my
attachment to threes.

I don't put much
stock in lucky numbers.
My friend's ran out.
It was okay until her
parents learned the
truths and quit trying to
pretend and so she
retired her necklace with the
seven attached because the
chain was broken anyway, just as her
home had suddenly,
overnight and in a
matter of minutes, become.

But that seven, that
number to me is just your
birthday. Only nine days
after mine; mine being the
twenty-eighth which is
the number of
years older than me you
are; and nine being the
date on which my
dad and your
mom both died in
January and May,
respectively, only
three years apart.

Perhaps these things mean
something, like it was
fate that I share my
birthday with a
poet and composer and my
violin teacher's father; fate
that my half birthday is my
stepsister's birthday. But what
is fate and does it
truly exist or are these things just
coincidences that appear
meaningful when read into
more than they should be?