A family relative died and the funeral was today. Afterwards as people milled around a woman approached and asked the relationship to the deceased. Somehow the topic turned to other things and within a few moments we left followed out the door by this woman.
As she walked out of the door behind us, she said to no one in particular: “I have nowhere to go.”
That struck me. The sun was out but the air was cold. Cars were going by on the street, life was going on.
There is always, and I repeat always, somewhere to go.
I don’t know who this woman is. I’ve seen her before at events. I don’t know her name or where she lives.
All I could think of later: there is always somewhere to go.