Blah blah Blah

So anyway, today was sort of a breakthrough day for me.  Why, you ask?  Well, let me tell you.  I know I always promise these posts, and apparently don't seem to deliver: someday, I should go through the blog and see what stories I said I'd finish, and then actually FINISH them.  Anyway, one of those "phantom posts" I promised was the "taking and coming off of antidepressants" posts I kept saying I'd write.  Well, I  was only on those bitches for like four months, but that was enough to make me all wiggy.  And I will write that post, but it's so involved, I just don't want to tonight.  However, let me tell this story.  When my dad died, sorta suddenly, in early November, I was in shock.  And since I was about 6 weeks into taking  Cipralex, I was freaked out as to WHY I couldn't really feel anything.  Oh, I felt it, but I didn't have that big old weepy/sobby-I-am-going-to-die thing.  So I blamed the pills.  And then I went off the pills.  And long story short, I've been processing my Dad's death in increments since then.  Right after he died, we got calls and letters from colleagues of his, and old friends, and that was almost too much for me.  However, we got this "neat" letter from an old family friend.  My parents had these friends... lets call them  the "Wilmers" who were their best friends for a number of years.  The Wilmers appeared to be a little older than my parents.  They lived in this old house, at the outskirts of town, with an inground pool.  Their kids weren't all that much older than my siblings, but they appeared to be.  Anyway, when I was in grade one, Mrs. Wilmer, "Susie", taught me how to swim in their pool.  Her promise was, at the end of the summer, was that if I could tread water for 2 minutes, after swimming the length of the pool twice, I would get not only salt water taffy, but 5 American dollars.  Let me tell you, I remember every fucking second of THAT exercise, and I remember getting those 5 dollars.  Anyway, the "Wilmers" lived in this old house with a pool.  Their kids were grown up.  They both smoked Craven M cigarettes and only drank that Schloss white wine.  And they loved both the smokes and the wine.  my parents actually went to Oregon with them one year, touring the Oregon Coast.  When Rachel and I went, I felt their presence.  Anyway, long story short, right before we moved from Paradise City, in 1981, my parents had a little falling out with the Wilmers.  It had something to do with my mom calling them and saying a bunch of them were coming over after some sort of party, and not showing.  Anyway, Suzie Wilmer was all pissy and that was the end of 12 yrs of best friendness.  ANYWAY.
When my folks were in Surrey about 10 yrs ago, they got together with Wilmers, along with my aunt, and all was well with them.  And when my dad died, Mr. Wilmer sent a letter saying how much my parents meant to them, etc., and shared some stories.  These funny stories came at the right time.  I guess when they all went to Oregon, they took turns buying gas and when it was my Dad's turn, as Mr. Wilmer pulled into a gas station, he said "for shit's sake, leave it to you to pull into the most expensive goddamn gas station in North America!"  They laughed about that for years, and indeed, when the Wilmers were retrurning to Canada from California this year, they passed the same gas station and commented on this old convo., and then they got back to Canada and heard about Dad passing from my Aunt, who lives in the same town.
Anyway, this letter meant a lot to me.  I said I would write back and such but it didn't happen.  And I said that I would also contact old family friends who were the first to comment when both my mom and my dad died.
So this morning, I had them all in my head for some reason.  I just thought I had to deal with all of this before time went on.  So I went into work and my fingers did the walking.  I called my parents' old friends, and caught up.  It felt so good, and like such closure.  THEN I called the Wilmers and OMG, we caught up so much.  They are 80 and 82.  And old.  But we talked about so much and it was so healing for me.  It's not only my folks I miss, but their friends, and life from when they were alive, and just to make those connections made me feel so much better, and stronger.  True, I have a feeling I will end up living in the past for another 30 years, but to make these connections makes me feel a little less detached.  I dunno, maybe it would be better to just be detached, but something about these connections makes me feel comforted.  And thus so it goes.  We all plod on, one day at a time....
Anyway, I am going to find Chelsea Lately.  Seacrest Out.