It's often Sunday when I write here. I don't know why. I went to Long Island today, took the bus to the train, the train to the station. Walked the half mile or so from the station to my mother's house. How does the song go?
“It's a twenty minute walk to the train/and the train's only on time when you're late.” Greener from “Everything I Touch Runs Wild”. Someone reminded me the other day that the record is about to turn thirty years old! How strange time is. Thirty years. How can it be? My father was still alive. I think I was dating Anton then, or we had just broken up. Maybe I was already with the next one. Who can keep track? I was still young but didn't know it.
It was a beautiful day. Gem and I didn't mind the walk. My mother lives in a pretty town full of churches and trees. The clouds always seem more dramatic there. My mother is almost 92 now and in good shape. I'm fairly certain she will outlive me due to her optimism and stubbornness. I am equally stubborn but have never been an optimist-- obviously. My mother doesn't have a depressive bone in her body while I've always been up and down. We played Scrabble and talked. I appreciate that she is still alive. It's wonderful to still have a mother at this age. Gem loves the garden and the chicken my mother feeds her for lunch. She is also optimistic and stubborn.
I miss my fellow depressives, Ha! Anton and Gregory in particular. I miss the way they understood me and I, them. I miss their cynical laughter. Unfortunately, neither lived long enough to be here in old age. I don't know if Gregory was a suicide but I know Anton was. I so wish he was still here, smoking his cigarettes, and being a pain in the ass. I'd play him the new songs and await his judgement. It's true you never know how much you'll miss someone until they're gone.