I barely noticed the old woman step onto the tram two stops from my destination and sit down beside me as I let out a hefty exhale. She said, “That’s a big sigh.”

“I guess I’m thinking about too many things that are outside of my control,” I replied.

“I think we all do that,” she concurred.

She was dressed in black. A silver haired beauty with kindness in her voice. As we continued in conversation, only then did I learn she had come from a funeral.

“He was 92, I guess we can’t complain about that.” I told her about my 96 year old Pop.

“He’s still got his marbles?”

“Yes.”

“Well that’s all that matters.”

I shared how he believes in keeping the body and mind active for a long and healthy life. “And good food,” she piped in. “It’s much harder for you lot,” she continued. And I asked, “In what way.”

“Oh, you know, drugs, and other things, life was simpler for us. People even didn’t drink as much beer.

“I play a game sometimes when I get on here,” she gestured to the packed tram, “and sometimes I’m the only one who isn’t looking down tapping on some phone or with things in my ears. I’m the only one looking up.”

And we looked. But today was different. Hardly anyone was on a device. And we laughed. I had to confess, I would be a culprit except my phone battery died shortly before she sat down.

“It’s good to look up. See what’s going on around you.”

It was my stop. In the grinding city traffic where I could have walked faster than the tram was moving, I was grateful it was so slow. The only regret is that I didn’t ask her name.