My Invisible Friends

My baby sister had an imaginary friend growing up. Her name was Jenga and Jenga had everything. When we went to the store Jenga had every toy on the shelf. When we were driving down the road Jenga had cows and horses and playgrounds. Jenga was fun and smart and just the best friend a girl could ever ask for at three years old, and if I may editorialize here, the girl was spoiled rotten. But this girl was also an integral part of our daily lives for about two years until my sister started Kindergarten. I’m sure we teased her about it, but I don’t think we really ever just told her Jenga wasn’t real. We went along with it because Jenga was real to her and it wouldn’t be fair to tear down this person she created just because we couldn’t see it too.

Fifteen years later, I now have invisible friends. I’m a fully functioning, contributing member of society and I admit that I have invisible friends. If you are reading this, there is a good chance you are one of them. The Internet has brought people into my life I would have never known otherwise. People of common interests or similar situations that I just haven’t had to opportunity to shake hands with in person. Many of these friends know intimate details about my life and my children that I don’t share with my “real” friends because it just wouldn’t be proper. I mean, who tells people they really know about their hormones?

I am so thankful for my invisible friends. I think about you daily. When Bug and I sit down to watch “Signing Time” I think about how fun it will be for Bug to talk to Kari and her son in HIS language when we get together in Colorado one of these days. When Bug is chattering non-stop and Bit is crying I close my eyes and think of Heidi with 5 boys demanding her time at once and I know I can get through it. When Bug is about to throw a fit, I wonder “What would Wendy Do?” and consider giving a hug instead of time out. When I see the easel in the corner of the room or a plot of dirt begging for digging, I think about Nicole homeschooling and homesteading out in Alaska. When I see a cardboard paper towel holder I think of Max and Tiff playing pirates or superheroes on a boat dock in some tropical oasis. I think of Amanda, Victoria, Heather, Christy and Alisa living as examples of faith and witnessing the principles of God’s love. I think of Melisa and Mandi sharing their strength through medical ordeals and Amy and Kelly working to help people through them. I think of Nancy, Alison, Lynette, Jo, Johna, Lindsay, Lisa all working toward healthy lifestyles, running in crazy barefeet or training for marathons, and teaching good habits to their kids about food and exercise.

Before tearing into the basement for moving today, I told Muffin I had to take an hour to come upstairs and write. It makes me a better, more focused mom and wife to have my thoughts cleared from my mind to the paper. But the last few weeks I haven’t been demanding that time for myself. Thanks to the chatter of my invisible friends this week I made that time today. Even if I can’t buy you a coffee or a drink or go for a hike or watch your kids for a few hours, you are always in my head. You have shared so much with me and made me a better grown up. Our intimate chats and inside jokes have made very real impressions on me. Thank you to my invisible friends for being so real and having all the cool things a 31-year old could ever want!