I've outlasted (outlived) my dad.

I look forward to each and every day. But I can imagine what it'd be like not to. Guess that would be a definition of depression. When everything seems bleak. And sad. And that maybe it's not even worth living anymore. I'd hate to feel that way. It would be scary. My dad must have felt that way. When he committed suicide 60-some years ago. It'd be hard for me to follow in dad's footsteps. Maybe only if I were dreadfully ill. And in severe pain. I assume my dad was in mental anguish. Mental pain. Interesting, isn't it? That I've taken a different mental tack. I consider myself upbeat. Even in difficult times. I don't want to feel bad. Or depressed. I always find something to make me happy. To get wrapped up in life. To savor moments on an almost daily basis. Maybe I'll fail some day. And everything will go awry. But hey, so far I've made it almost twice as long as my dad. --Jim Broede