Mr. Jay
I haven't seen mr. Jay since'07
He stopped by our house and we talked for hours about Winston, his 16 year old Boston terrier, depression, life, and family.
I remember now.
I stopped by his house in '07
Knocked on his door to say I moved back in town, but really I just needed someone to talk to. My life was a living hell. I lived in a small basement with my parents and older sibling where we all fought and argued constantly. My dad would leave for days without coming home, my mom would cry (often in silence pretending I wouldn't notice) and my brother would act like we didn't exist by playing video games to keep away from all the drama. I was sixteen.
I talked to mr. Jay that day and pretended everything was fine. Mr. Jay came to us today, and with his 55 year old wisdom, he neither pretended nor sugarcoated that everything was fine. He told us that he recently tried reconnected with his sister and it was a disaster. That he hated the fact that he resembled his parents so much, and that he wouldn't know what to do when Winston dies. He told us he was in therapy but he quit going and that he suffered from depression.
My mom and I nodded, smiled, gave him a hug, and sent him on his way with good vibes.
I later wondered to myself if my past still affects the person I am today. I think it can be, especially when things get overwhelming.
Songs like JJ Grey whisper in my ears, it's the little things- not expectations- that make life worth living worth living...