you are here

this weekend i took a train to see a friend in wilmington, delaware (the place from where credit card statements hail). she's actually a family friend - her parents were basically mentors for my parents when i was little. her parents were like second grandparents to me. they have both passed, but are still ingrained in my mind forever as incredible people. dorothy and karl were their names, and they helped me reach the realization that people with gray hair and wrinkles could be cool. lisa is their daughter, and she married a guy that got into the credit card business back in the 80s, which is her reason for living in wilmington. lisa is absolutely beautiful, a mother of three in her late forties - one of those hot moms that wears great clothes and listens to the radio.

several years ago, her husband (appropriately named dick) cheated on her and left their family in pieces, or shreds, rather. the settlement was favorable - she'll never have to work and will be more than fine. she got the mansion and the cars and the house in florida, and they still live in unbelievable daily financial comfort. james still cooks them dinner, christina still runs the household affairs, and dan is still handy. but the situation sucks. dick, who was already not the best husband/dad, continues to live up to his name, and her kids have more issues than a magazine. she does the best she can, which is pretty amazing to me, but i still feel incredibly sad for her. but she just keeps on - keeps on loving her kids, keeps on being involved in their lives, keeps on hanging out with her girlfriends, keeps on going to the gym, keeps on being generous to those who have less than her (e.g. me), keeps on laughing. she keeps living. you just have to.

on the way home this evening i was sitting by a window on the train, but the edge of the window kept me from looking too far ahead. i basically was just able to see things as we passed them. first was the rolling hills and thick trees of delaware, then the pennslyvania countryside, and last was the graffitied buildings of jersey, one which read "detox the ghetto". i enjoyed each visual nugget as we passed, but i could never tell what was coming next. i couldn't help but think that life can be like that sometimes. it passes by so furiously, and you can't always see what's coming your way. you just have to look at where you are and try and enjoy it and carry on.

sometimes life is beautiful, but sometimes shit happens and life gets messy. just like it did for lisa. and while it sounds all too generic and cliche, all you can really do is keep living. because some days all you really know is that, just like the sign outside my building elevator reads, you are here.