OK, so no one besides Laurie and me wants to talk about death. Not exactly cheery. No fun in funerals. Ah, well. I hope that when my day comes, I will have few regrets.
Today Kayleigh and I went birthday shopping for Kelsey, who turns 8 on Tuesday. We live close to a bike path that goes around Lake Monona, so there is often a lot of bike and rollerblade traffic and a few walkers. It's about 12 miles around the lake, so even though the walk is pretty flat--only two hills I can think of--it's still a long way to walk. So, we were driving to the store, and a woman was sitting on the curb, crying. She was dressed in sporty clothes and holding a water bottle. There was no bike in sight, so she was either walking or lived nearby. I thought, hmm. Maybe she's tired and can't make it the rest of the way. I thought I should stop and see if she needs help, but I just went on.
But it bugged me, her sitting there all red and full of tears. Maybe someone ditched her. Maybe she got hurt. Maybe she went on a walk because she's working out some inner turmoil and the turmoil overcame her. Maybe she's a total fruitcake. I finally turned around. People should help each other.
I drove up to her, and she looked up.
"Do you need some help?" I asked.
"No, I'm fine," she said, and wiped her eyes.
"Are you sure?" Because we all sit on curbs and bawl in broad daylight. I know I had my sympathetic mom face on, and it surprised me. When did I turn into the Helping Hand lady?
She nodded and smiled and heaved a great sob. "Thanks, though," she said, and turned away, wiping her face with the palm of her hand.
I smiled at her and said, "OK. Take care." Then I gave her a "last chance" look, but she looked at her feet. So I drove away.
She wasn't there when we got back. I hope she's OK.
More cheerful: We got Kelsey some dyno presents. Woo-ha!