Wondering Why

She got on the Max train about 3 stops after me. It was impossible not to see her. He lifted her up on her over-loaded chair. Her head flopped back and forth, her tongue hung out.

What was her story? How long has this been her life?

 The salt water formed, uninvited under my eyelids. I tried in vain to blink back oncoming tears.

Why her and not me? What if she were in my shoes, (flip flops), shades on, in route to the beaches of California?

 It was tempting to stare, but difficult to watch, head bobbing, drool hanging. I tried to imagine her life. What was it like to be her?

Behind her was an angel. Her angel. He lifted her onto the train. He steadied her chair as we swerved around corners. He whispered into her ear and I heard her laugh. He rubbed her shoulders, propped her head, and wiped her drool. Then, he pointed out the view of Mt. Hood as it came into view. I could tell she appreciated it.

We had that in common. We gazed at the snowy peak rising through a warm summer sky. I had memories of climbing it, hiking it, and running from it to the Pacific Ocean on a Hood to Coast team. Five times.

 Why me and not her?