Chris and I took a little jaunt to Boston this past weekend to visit with Shannon, Julia, and Julia’s beautiful family. (We missed you, Nicole!) It was so nice – not too much diabetes-talk, but more like the reunion of old friends.
Ah, I love Boston. We tucked in some lunch at the Purple Shamrock (where all items are renamed to sound Irish – hence my “Celtic Cob Salad” and Chris’s “O’Hamburger,” or some nonsense) and ventured off to the gardens.
On our walk, we saw a rainbow that was encircling the entire sun. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.
We also saw some of Boston’s finest: The Macy’s Fashion Police. These girls were an atrocity – O and I had our fun mocking them relentlessly. If this is your job, you should quit, because there is no need for you. Seriously. (Nice hats.)
After a ride in the Swan Boat (where we saw potentially plastic turtles, beautiful spring flowers, and Chris almost knocked Shannon off into the murky water trying to take pictures), we walked along the garden paths and there we saw it.
An old lady in the act.
Signs were posted everywhere – “Keep Off The Grass.” People complied, for the most part, but we watched as one old lady walked around the partition, knife in hand, towards a huge tree. She leaned up and started to carve her name into the trunk, her friend coming over to help her.
“I’m getting this picture for evidence. We’re caught her red-handed, defacing Boston property!”
And as the shutter snapped, I realized that this old woman was carving her name into a tree for perhaps the last time in her life. Her withered fingers held tight to the knife, despite her shaking hands, and she chipped away at the bark.
It was a minute where I felt young and foolish, making jokes while this woman was etching in one last moment of her life. From her gentle hands to her baby blue socks, if I close my eyes I can hear her asking her friend,
“Help me reach just a bit higher. I want to make sure people can see it.”