So I can savor the new day.

I think depression is an illness. One that I have avoided. I don't think I've ever been significantly depressed. Ever. Maybe I've felt down. Or sad. For a day or two or three. But I suspect I've never been clinically depressed. I talk to people who seem depressed. So I have some idea what it's all about. But I don't think I can fully understand what they are going through. I can just imagine it. I suspect my father was depressed. Because he committed suicide. Many, many years ago. Maybe there have been times when I was headed toward depression. But I've always nipped it in the bud. Maybe depression is something like I felt immediately after Jeanne died. Maybe for a few hours. I didn't even feel like living. Oh, I grieved for a while. Weeks. Months. A year. Maybe I still grieve in some ways. But I'm happy. Maybe because I get on with life. And I'm in love. With life, in particular. I love to wake every morning. So I can begin to savor the new day. --Jim Broede