I’ve always been a “glass half full” kind of girl. But I admit that there have been times in my life when I’ve tried to temper that positive attitude for fear that people might be thinking I was “in denial” about something, or “being a Polly Anna” about a situation, or “being fake” to hide a secret sadness. (This, by the way, is a good example of how my brain runs on overdrive.) But I’m convinced that the positive attitude is directly related to the friendships I have with girls. (Sister and mom included.)
Perhaps that is why I have felt the need to share lately. As these difficult years with M began to unfold, I had already returned to teaching. And now our struggles seem to be dipping to new, painful lows. Unfortunately, I am no longer free to sit on park benches with friends talking while our kids play. There are no more long talks at McDonald’s Play Place while the kids run through tubes and play in ball pits for hours. So, I write.
Each night after I finish my little note, I walk away from my kitchen table with my rose-colored glasses and a smile on my face. I do realize the difficulty of addiction, but my smile is real, and I’m not Polly Anna. Sharing with my friends, even if it begins at my fingertips, has made all the difference in the world to me.