Denial

Ed was leaving the gym yesterday as I was getting there and I asked “Is this the last time?” and he said that it was, and I told him I was still in denial, and he told me to come visit, which I would love to do, because Ed and Lali are moving to a beautiful spot near way more Culture and Things to Do, but even though I don’t see them often, it’s hard when someone leaves the neighborhood and you know that they aren’t there anymore, and it’s hard to not be the ones buying their house even though it isn’t the right thing for us to attempt at the moment, I mean, what a beautiful spot they have, really, how can they leave?, and it’s been hard for everyone to watch them go when they seem way too young to be heading off to a community like this, even though they are smarter than the average bear for dealing with it while they are still young enough to do it well, and it’s been uncomfortable for many of us to be forced to think about these things in relation to ourselves, not because Ed and Lali care whether we think about it, but seeing them do this we can’t help but think about it, and it’s uncomfortable on many levels, not the least of which is wondering if I will ever be able to afford to retire or take care of myself in any way ever in my old age and I’m not even technically a poverty-stricken individual so how does anyone manage anything and why couldn’t my parents have done something like this years ago and what a mess it’s all going to be when my parents die, but anyway Paul had a lovely going-away party for Lali and Ed on Sunday and the weather was beautiful and his screened-in porch was blissful and Tim’s recorder group played and we had drinks and appetizers and enjoyed the company and the temperatures and the sunshine and the hummingbirds and the thrushsong and some people played croquet and it didn’t really feel like they were leaving at all and Paul had wanted to give them something small and packable that signified Parts West and he gave them a signature Roy Egg chicken head and I brought them a roof slate that came off my house when the ice pans went on because the town of Parts West exists because of slate and my artist friend Diane had flipped out when she saw these weathered slates in my barn attic and she took a bunch of them to use in her work and ordered more from my roofer guy so maybe Lali can use a slate in her artwork, or maybe it can hang out in their new garden or somewhere where she and Ed can look at it and fondly think of their (how-can-it-be-10) years here and the people who loved that there were here, and even after all this I am still in denial and have my hands over my ears and am singing la la la I’m not listening.