Still in Boston

Yesterday we had sunshine. Piles of green leaves heaped and billowed against blue sky in yellow sun. The city was happy.

I went downtown to look for sandals and for summer clothes that will likely serve me until December. I shopped at places that were only names in storybooks until this trip, Macy's among them. Discovered my first Marshall's came back outfitted and sated.

Today it is raining again and Boston feels like camp. That's a good feeling because it means the house is beginning to break down, it is becoming a temporary place and that is the purpose of this month, this trip, this adventure.

Next month - I am almost completely certain I will be in Austin and I need to say it - I will be there first and foremost for love.

Last week we were shopping at the local Stop and Shop. At the end of the ice cream aisle, a woman came careening and stumbling around the corner from behind us. She was running, doubled over with one hand crumpled into her chest. She was saying the whole time, "I'm OK, I'm OK" when clearly she was not.

She rounded the aisle, picked up speed and lunged into the magazine rack at the end of the checkout head first.

Then she fell to the floor.

Blood began to flow from her head in a thick, heavy stream, like molasses. A man took off his shirt and held it to the wound. She looked baffled, still trying to stand she kept on saying "I'm OK, I'm OK."

We all did what we could. We made sure to talk to the paramedics, I told them exactly what I saw, a few of us got our phones out to call 911. Some people broke out paper towels to staunch the wound. Nothing stopped it - nothing seemed to get through to her. On the stretcher, she was no longer struggling but still looked confused as though she thought all of this was normal.

I am pretty sure she died. I just feel it. She was in her late 60's or 70's and I think that was a stroke we saw. Whatever it was - in that store I saw life and death come careening around the corner and it made it very clear to me that life is short and unpredictable. One minute you are in the ice cream aisle and the next you are on the floor, the star of a gruesome show. The lead player in the final act.

Life matters too much to pretend you can control anything about it. That's one thing I know.