Vermeil

Since my return from visiting the rents, I have been suffering from depression. You'd think I'd quickly identify the condition by now, but it took a while. Last Saturday I moped around, had zero motivation to leave the house, which was highly atypical of me on a Saturday. On Sunday I left the house to walk the dog, and get St. John's wort. For my depression.

I was expecting post-vacation blues all along, but this depression goes a little beyond. I am wallowing in the whole "What is the purpose of life" debacle again. With Elsie, I called it "general malaise", to be vague. I've brought it up with Denisse. And mentioned to friends who would relate to being apart from family. But never do I refer to it as depression. The word is overused and misused anyhow.

Today, while out making copies for the most tedious project at work, I decided to swing by my local Trader Joe's to get a sense of escape. (Pathetic, admittedly.) There was a "European style" farmers' market near work (let's call it Oxtails) which, after having served the community for 45 years, just closed in late June. It had quality produce, so fresh, it would last for weeks in the fridge. None of that chain supermarket nonsense of withering within days. It also offered unique European goodies you couldn't find anywhere else. When Oxtails closed, it was the end of an era. Many, myself included, started mourning its loss well before the end of June. It was hard to say goodbye.

There was this employee at Oxtails, Kelsey*, who was quite a character. He was quite lean, and had the 80's rock star hair and skinny jeans to complete the look. I chatted him up once, on one of my "good" days, and learned that he took the bus to work everyday. It takes a certain kind not to drive in California. I did not press.

Even though Kelsey had this tough exterior, he was very courteous. I could sense his vulnerability. I imagine he was picked on in high school. He was "weird", an outcast. I liked him (but not that way.) It was always good to spot him at the store and I was sad to think that now that the store had closed, I would never see him again. Not like I ever chatted with him again after that one time. He probably didn't even remember me.

Then, today, at Trader Joe's, I spotted that spiky hair from afar. Could it be...? After all, how many people sport that hairstyle? These are not the 80's anymore.

I craned my neck and looked some more but could only see the back of this guy's head. There were people in line, blocking my view. Just then, the dude turned ever so slightly. It was Kelsey! He now worked one of the cash registers at TJ's! He was still wearing skinny jeans, now paired with a bright peacock green TJ's T-shirt.

I was elated. I was beside myself. I pictured myself walking up to him, high-fiving him, congratulating him on life after Oxtails.

Had I done that, he would have stared at me blankly, like I was a complete weirdo. And justifiably so. He would be like, "Who are you?"

The thought of him still riding the bus daily to this neighborhood warmed my heart. TJ's is practically in the same parking lot as where Oxtails  had been, on opposite ends. Kelsey hasn't had to change his routine much at all.

And just like that, as I finished my errand and headed out, the sun seemed brighter, and the world was less sad.

You just never know who you have a friend in. Sometimes they are not going to tell you. They never will tell you. But there is good out there. There is positive energy out there, directed toward you. We all need a reminder sometimes.


*Not his real name