Depression runs in my family. Lots of it. But I’m lucky. I’ve been a happy fella.
Virtually my entire life. Even when things go wrong, I don’t stew for long.
Focusing instead on the stuff that has gone right. Such as falling in love. Not once. But twice.
With goddesses. Little wonder. That I’m
also in love with life. Could be that
love is an antidote for depression. Maybe my dad was out of love. He committed
suicide. When he was 38. Wish I could have counseled him then. But I was only
13 at the time. And not into counseling. Now I’d be capable of talking the
likes of my dad into savoring and embracing the goodness of life. --Jim Broede
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