I turned 37 years old on an eastbound Metro train. Two German women sat talking across the aisle from me. I caught every tenth word or so. A Vietnam veteran and his family waved from the front of the car, thanking me again for guiding them through their passcard purchase back at the Vienna station. A warm and little six year-old hand rested on my belly skin for comfort. I closed my eyes and felt the curve of the tracks beneath me.