staying put

Back in the day, I used to feel defensive about having only lived in Santa Fe for a year, two years, three years, whatever. And I used to think, 'someday I'll be able to say I've lived here for 20 years and I know what's what.' Well, that day has come. Twenty years in Santa Fe. I don't know if I know what's what, but I do, as a general rule, usually know who to call to find out what's what. "Sticking around," as I've come to think of it, has the unfortunate effect of having to attend a lot of going away parties. I don't know if this is a demographic issue I'm having, but a large number of my friends have left over the years and this year has been a doozy. As of the end of July, the body count will be at five close friends and a few others who I least appreciate having around, either for work or occasional hanging out. Peter leaves tomorrow. He, at least, has left before, and returned, and will, in fact, be back by the weekend for 10 days and, he says, monthly, so that one isn't quite so bad. Samia is leaving at the end of the month, but her family lives here. Donnan is visiting next week. So, yes, they come back. But friends who visit versus friends who are just here are two different things. The latter means impromptu fun. The former requires plans, not to mention requires making new friends! Again! At my age! For a while, back in the '90s, a few other people who, like me, had decided to stick around, decided we should boycott all these going away parties and form a secret society for those of who remained. I'm happy to say all the originating members of that society (which performed absolutely no function, we had a brief argument about who was president, vice president and secretary and then never discussed it again) are, like me, still here.
I don't know. Maybe the time will come when I, too, will require a going away party. At the moment, it's unclear if anyone would be left to attend it.