Way to Start

Dear J-

So I had a couple of ledes in mind for today.

1. I love these people, but I feel like I’m always intruding when I watch them sitting in their face-to-face set: she has her shoes off and feet up on his thighs; he’s got a light grasp on her ankles and they’re both sleeping. It is at once intimate and oddly public, perhaps a way to keep some time together while they roll on to their separate destinations.

2. Well, that’s a way to start your day: catch up on your email that you’ve been ignoring so that one more name you know — and this time, knew pretty well, to boot — drops off the list of the living. I know this is an inevitable consequence of aging; I get that. I just don’t have to accept it, I don’t think. What’s left is nice words from friends and coworkers and then … ? What? Will we be so lucky?

I started wondering about (1), why I loved them so much and cynically concluded it was because they were quiet and modest and then I started to hate myself a little — a lot — for that; just because you don’t want to be challenged doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be, There’s a lot more in this world than just making sure folks are quiet and respectful and not buggin’, after all.

Then for (2) I didn’t like the idea of starting off with someone most of you might not know, though I always enjoyed working with him. It feels like every couple of weeks there’s something of a gut-punch although I suppose it shouldn’t be a huge surprise, given the aging population of plant employees — now ex-plant, to be accurate — and my inability to keep up with names and respond in a timely fashion. I feel like … I don’t know what to feel. What is appropriate? Is this what they talk about when we talk about how we talk glory days and by-gones?

It is Friday. All this will pass.



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