Carmen remembers the burglary - and the tears that flowed at the last hockey game her husband ever got to watch their son play

I back up to this morning, just after Shoshana served my coffee to me. Carmen came in. I had hoped we might have a nice chat, but all sorts of people kept coming in – Amanda the hockey mom; Jay, my fellow pilot and lover of airplanes, Ollie Kent, Carmen's four-year-old neighbor who came with his mom; others whose names I do not know. Some of the talk was about the burglary, and how violated Carmen and Shoshana felt to have had someone smash his way into their space, and then snoop about doing whatever he wanted in there.

Here, Carmen describes a much more joyful moment, yet a moment ringed in a halo of deep sadness. It was Branson's final hockey game of the past season – for state championship - and the last his father would ever see him play. His father knew it, too.

Branson's team was one goal behind and the game was drawing to a close. With just seconds to go, little Branson knocked in the tying score. Tears flowed from his father's eyes – tears of joy, of pride, of gratitude; tears of sorrow and of longing for all those future games death would force him to miss. Tears flowed from the eyes of all of Branson's teammates and their parents. Only Branson did not cry. His father had taught him to be strong and he was going to be.

They lost the state championship in overtime, but this could not diminish that special moment Branson had given to his team, his mother and his dying father.

Carmen at Metro, contemplating connections between the living and the dead

I see that for some reason, the text I included in my last post on Shoshana did not make it into the blog! Well, I will remedy that when I get home. I am still at Metro, but will leave soon. Carmen and I have been visiting, and speaking of the connections that we feel with those we have loved who have died. Scot has been gone for two months now, Soundarya going on three years. We spoke of them both.

Carmen on the other side of the drive-through window, then back inside

This morning, I stepped inside Metro Cafe and there was Carmen, on the outside, at the

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In search of freedom and mischief, boys pour out the window of Metro Cafe

I pulled up to the drive-through at Metro and boys started pouring through the window.

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Carmen returns to Metro Cafe

This afternoon, I pulled up to the Metro Cafe window and there was Carmen. I knew she was going to be there, because I saw her car in the parking lot. I thought about parking myself and going inside, but I wanted to see her as I had known her from the start - standing behind the window. And yes, along with barista Evelina, she greeted me with her warm smile and a squeal of delight.

Amazingly, no car pulled in behind me for at least 15 minutes, maybe 20, so I stayed parked at the window and we talked - about Scot, about Branson, who everyday becomes more like Scot, about her trip to her native home in Old Mexico. 

Although I wrote nothing about it at the time, Carmen had last come in to work on May 4, then went to stay with Scot at the hospital until his time living on this earth came to an end on May 19. After the funeral, she took Branson and returned to Mexico.

This was the very first day she had even seen Metro Cafe, the stage Scot built for her, since she began her vigil May 4. She had not even driven by it. It had been hard for her to come back, hard to see his antique Metro car, his antique Metro van - all the things he had built into Metro Cafe for her. Now, she was glad she had come back.

"Scot is looking over me," she said. "This is where Scot wants me to be." She closed her eyes and held them closed, this smile upon her face.

I could not just drive away. I pulled into a parking spot, went inside, patiently waited as a blond woman excitedly told Carmen about how some relatives of hers were headed to Africa to serve a mission for God. The woman paused for moment. I stepped into the coffee making area and gave Carmen a hug. I then went back to the car, drove away and drank my coffee.

It was excellent. Metro Cafe coffee is always excellent.

As to the post I had said I would put up today about the cat who crossed the road, it can wait another day.