Photo courtesy of my son from Saturday.

And on a different note. Wow, that was mid-July. Didn’t realize it had been so long.

Okay, so, this morning I got up thinking it would be a great day to go to Copenhagen Bakery in Burlingame: I could drop Richard off at work and go straight there.

With the next thought being a glance upwards at the skylight, thinking, are you kidding me?

It drizzled off and on all day yesterday and today started off with just a little of that–the roads are always oilslicked after an early-season rain here.

And yet the thought was both persistent and happy. Enough to make me pay attention to it and take stock.

Did either of us need the calories? Certainly not. Was I craving my favorites of theirs? Oh heck, always a little bit but nothing out of the ordinary, so, no, not really. Would I personally be just as happy if I didn’t go? Sure. It’s a trek. If I were going to Cottage Yarns in South San Francisco too, maybe I could combine the trips and justify both but that wasn’t in the plan either. (More on that tomorrow, probably.)

I said a prayer: is there something I don’t know about, some reason I should go? Again and again, I felt, You Should Go. Well alright then, if that is to be, and if there’s a reason for it, I certainly can’t know and I’m very good at being too human; please help me be my best self to clear the way open for whatever’s and whoever’s supposed to happen.

On impulse coming away from Richard’s office I found myself turning towards this freeway rather than that. Was I sure I knew how to get there that way? Not at all. I almost did a U-turn but found myself relentlessly going thataway. Huh, well, good luck then.

280 is a far prettier drive with much less traffic anyway. Less stressful.

There was a huge cloudburst that lasted about twenty seconds, then almost dry, then a lesser shorter cloudburst and from there on out it was only a few random drops. Not too bad.

I realized pretty quickly, as I wondered if that had been my exit, that this was going to be even more guesswork than I’d thought. Note that GPS is for people who can hear it clearly in a noisy car–I’m a little too conditioned towards not trying it. I ended up meandering a bit after taking an exit that was actually one too early, trying to find my way downhill towards town. Overcorrected on the sense of direction, backtracked, took my time sweet time and finally, I got there. I think I added at least fifteen minutes to the trip.

The manager from last time? She was nowhere in sight. The woman who’d messed up last time? I do believe that was her helping me. I was wearing the same sunhat, using the same cane, and we had a fun time going back and forth: if I was going to make a trek like and get lost like I did than I was going to get enough fun stuff to make it worth it all. Hazelnut mousse pastry? Yes please. Raspberry? I’ll have to try it.

She winced at that road trip description and I laughed it off with, “I got to explore!”

The chef’s surprises. They freeze well. There were actually four of my favorite filled almond meringue danishes left this time–I know they sell out early in the day every day. “Are those all there are?”

“Yes.”

“Mine,” and we both cracked up, and I thought, It WAS you! And you do have it this time. Cool. This was so much better an experience to leave her with.

Carrying that great sense of goodwill along on my way out, there was a man maybe ten years older than me seated at a tiny table, talking quietly into his cellphone and then staring into space and looking like the whole world was on his shoulders in a way that suddenly made my heart reach out to him. I could just picture my Richard looking like that when I was in the hospital, though I cannot know, here, what….

I found myself stopping a moment and glancing at my cane and then at his very nice, hand carved one that had seen some use but was still quite a work of art, making the visual connection, then nodding quietly with a smile, *Nice* cane!

A touch of pride, a sense that someone had noticed him in that moment when he’d so much needed not to be alone: he looked up into my eyes and he seemed to suddenly melt, letting go in some inner relief. I don’t quite know how to describe it but I felt it.

Another nod in goodbye and I was out into the sunlight heading quickly for my car. Grateful. Wondering.

So much I don’t know. But I’m so glad I went and that I got there when I did.