Keeping calm

A fine flight yesterday, up through some towering clouds and down, five and a half hours later, past the peak of Mt. Rainier against a too-red sunset. There were high swirls of wildfire smoke just east of the mountain.

Dave, my stepdad, would've fallen at the airport last night, if I hadn't been right behind him. He's moving very slowly. A kind guy who was standing at the curb helped me get him to the car, which Mom had gone ahead to open. 

Lots of conversations ahead of us about downsizing, retirement homes, medical conditions.

It's the next morning now, a gorgeous clear chilly morning, and I've walked to the Lakemont Starbucks. It was below 50 degrees when I set out! My thin mid-Atlantic blood had to get pumping! I've been sitting here absently listening to Depeche Mode singing that everything counts in large amounts...and across the store, a mom suddenly saved her daughter from choking. A commotion, a heimlich maneuver, and the girl was crying in her arms. Good lord...a few moments later, they carried on eating, and the man who'd leaped up to help was back with his own little boy, who was saying something in a comical voice and cracking up his dad. 

So much can happen in the blink of an eye. And then we just carry on.
Sometimes, in striking moments, I feel a rush of affection for all the humans around me.

I just texted my sister that Mom wants to carry on to the beach tomorrow. Kristie and I will drive and cook and take care of things, and we'll insist that Dave use his walker more. So, we're keeping calm (or clam, as they say at Ivar's seafood restaurant).