Imaginary friends

 

I didn't have an imaginary friend when I was little.

My first imaginary friend was when I was eleven years old and we moved to a new school the second semester of my sixth grade. We had moved before, but not since before I started kindergarten, so this time was different.

In the past, moving meant going to a new house with my same family. Nothing really changed but the scenery. In sixth grade everything changed. New house. New school. New neighbors. New friends. We only moved across town, but it was as if we had moved to the moon. On top of all that my Dad was gone all summer picking up new credits to teach calculus and soon after he returned my Mom began working too, so we came home after school to a babysitter. She was only a teenager and very kind, but everything was different at the same time my body began making big changes too.

In my old school I had had the same "boyfriend" since kindergarten. We walked part way home together, played marbles together, played with his electric train in the basement where his mom had an office and examination room. She was a pediatrician. My girl friend since fourth grade came from Canada and we would play at each other's houses, share our dolls, and play house in her huge old garage. We all met during that time when children make fast friends out of pure innocence and joy.

My new school was bigger. The governor's granddaughter went to school there and they had guards. Girls could be patrol girl's not just at the building doors, but on the corners like the boys. There were coat rooms and sometimes we ate in the school cafeteria. Everything was different. There were book clubs and patrol skating parties and we changed our clothes for gym class. Plus the learning part was different too. I had already written an Illinois report at my old school, but here we had to do one on historic sites and give an oral presentation. I was a little overwhelmed and a lot lonely.

Of course I still played a lot with my siblings. We had a third floor playroom with one side for the boys and the other for us. There I made my first Barbie dollhouse out of an orange crate and various and sundry boxes, clothespins, sponges and hairpins. It was mid century modern with wrought iron legs from the hairpins! But here I also pretended to have a boyfriend from my new school. He was a real boy. He just wasn't even my friend in real life. I would talk to him. Pretend he was the dad and I was the mom of my baby doll and we would go on imaginary adventures in my mind. Sometimes I would spend hours writing these stories down and I went to sleep at night thinking about them. Then I had my first period just a month before I turned twelve and when I was late a few months after that I truly believed that God thought Robbie and I were married and he was sending us a baby! I was traumatized. I knew I had done something really bad. Only bad girls got pregnant! I gave up my pretend boyfriend hoping God would take his baby back.

Of course I eventually learned the truth, but it was a turning point in my childhood.

The next time I had a make-believe friend was after my divorce! I was fifty years old! Of course both times I was fully aware it was only in my head and I never told anyone about either of these "friends."

But when I found myself suddenly alone (my husband told me one night before he moved out that he wanted a divorce,) living in my brand new dream house, with all my children off on their own; I invented an imaginary friend. He sat beside me when I played the piano. He lay beside me in bed when I read at night. He even perched on my hope chest and talked to me when I wrote in my journal. 

Looking back I have to laugh at some of this. He was a much more attentive and caring nonperson than my husband had ever been as a real person. He wasn't based on anyone like Robbie had been. In fact, I don't even know what he looked like. He was a presence. I had the support of family and friends and even a dream group, but he was still important to me. I think he left when I moved into my own condo with its balcony and lake and patio where the baby geese came to eat out of my hand.

Since then I have had some very close friends who made the need for imaginary ones obsolete. Until just the other day I found myself thinking about resurrecting one. 

Here my youngest son calls me nearly every day and sometimes on weekends we will talk for hours. My friend from Bloomington emails or texts me regularly. My other children and grandchildren text fairly regularly. Bestest and I share the results of all our online games every morning, but he no longer calls me every day. Now he usually calls once a month, maybe a little more, He still texts, but it isn't the same. 

I realize that although I am not lonely, I do miss having great conversations, when the woman doing my echocardiogram and I exchanged meaningful thoughts about art museums and different art forms I felt like I had gone out for coffee with my friends!

I might experiment with my AI, but I am just learning to be comfortable with it and Alexa is too flip for my taste, besides she isn't always easy to understand. Once more I may have to resort to my own imagination to fill in the gaps for my own personal needs!