Parallel Realities

Our grand-daughter was home from college for a few days. We arranged to meet her and our son in Kensington for a
"catch-up" visit.

When Jim and I arrived in Kensington for lunch at the neighborhood "tea room" we found the street blocked off, yellow plastic police strips marking off a "crime scene" and people milling around looking toward the Amtrak tracks that parallel Howard Avenue. "What happened?"

"They found a body on the tracks."
Its shocking to walk into a tragic scene. Questions pile-up. Who, what, how - and no answers - until the next day.

What we finally learned. A despondent elderly man - a life-time community volunteer fire-man, came to the train tracks, evidently planned to throw himself in the path of an on-coming train but when the wait was too long - he shot himself.
In the face of someone's pain
A shadow falls across a bright, lovely Fall day.

The irony of life is how we live in parallel realities.

Jim and I settle near the table where my late friend Pat and I ate our favorite BLT sandwiches on Tuesdays for more than eight years.

And today - we add a new, happy memory of a delightful visit with Jimmy and Alison - - talking of her job search as she nears graduation and her other plans for the future.

We live in layers.

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