“I detect bad vibes.....”

.....I thought to myself.
I went to the kennel where I board my dog for long trips. A co-owner was on her smartphone, and was distraught.
She was hiding, barely talking into her phone. “I’m alone,” I heard her say.
After 15-20 minutes of holding off tears, she hung up, wiped her eyes, and smiled at me.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“I detect bad vibes,” I said. “You were clearly hurting. You usually laugh at me.”
It was just the two of us. No one else was in the store.
“I lost my wife. I have no idea what’s hurting you, but it hurts me too.”
I extended my hand toward her. “I’m no good at this,” I said; “but you take my hand and hold on as hard as you must — AND DON’T LET GO!
I heard you say yer alone. Yer not! I’m here too!”
We held hands at least 10-15 minutes.
“If you want I can tell you the story behind that January picture.”
That was my annual train-calendar. I’ve given one to that kennel for years. They board my dog when I go to Altoona (PA) to take train pictures.
“04T east on Two, 242, CLEAR!”
She brightened a little.
“04T” is Amtrak’s eastbound Pennsylvanian, “Two” is Track Two, the track he’s on, “242” is the milepost signal location, 242 miles from Philadelphia, and “CLEAR!” is the signal aspect, sometimes a green light.
Every time he passes a signal he has to call out the signal aspect on railroad radio, which I monitor with my scanner.
“He’s not even to Altoona yet. He’s still gotta stop there, and again farther up the railroad in Tyrone (PA). I might be able to beat ‘im.
Everything in the car: camera, tripod, the whole shebang. Hammer down! Up Interstate-99 which parallels the railroad in the same valley.
“04T east on Two, 227, CLEAR!” That’s Fostoria; I’m even with him. He’s on 60-70 mph railroad.
“04T east on Two, 225, CLEAR!” That’s McFarlands Curve; I’m still even.
I rocket off I-99 at the Tyrone exit, and head toward where I wanna take the picture.
“04T east on Two, pulling into Tyrone for the station-stop.“ “Toot;” a single horn-blast means he’s stopped.
I’m still driving to my picture location.
Perhaps 2-3 minutes in Tyrone, then “04T east on Two, leaving the Tyrone station-stop.” “Toot-toot;” he’s starting.
By now I’m parked and outta my car, running around back. Camera-on: check.
I hear him throttling up. There he is! I’m gonna get that sucker!
By now my friend was smiling.
I often comment to others about why I’m still here. It’s not a religious question. Every female in my wife’s family lasted a long time. Her aunt made 98, her grandmother 96, and her mother made 100, outliving her daughter.
My wife only made 68, and we thought she’d make 100. I might. My paternal grandfather made 93.
“It wasn’t yer time yet,” people tell me.
“We’re all here for a reason,” my friend said. “And your reason was to make me feel better: perfect timing. And thanks for telling me yer train story.”