I do believe that our paths cross for a reason. As I waited for my bus a disheveled mid-30's guy staggered over and leaned against the shelter. He was sobbing. I bristled assuming he was either drunk, and or stoned. In between sobs he turned to me. "I just came from the hospital... My mom died." I listened as he extolled her virtues. I asked if we could call someone to get him. He said, everyone was at work. He had only told his brother and sister. I finally got him to sit on the bench next to me. He talked and sobbed, mostly incoherently. I just sat and listened until our bus came.
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