As a young child, I spent many hours in the backyard playing by myself or with my little sister. When I was seven, we moved to a new town. During the first summer in our new house, I had my first encounter with my “special friend”. She appeared as a bright misty figure with clear facial features, and a flowing dress like outfit.
Many parents, when their child tells them about “invisible friends” shrug it off as just the child’s imagination. Some, unfortunately are worse, calling the child a liar. I was lucky, my parents did the opposite. They wanted to know about my friend, what we talked about, what she looked like, etc. Their acceptance of the invisible person, allowed me to have a natural and healthy experience. They realized this was part of being who I was. By listening and not judging, they were able to monitor the situation, as I spoke freely about her and what we did.
Over the next several years, she would come to me when I was lonely or just by myself. Always, loving and with kind words, she washed me with waves of calm and joy. I remember we would sit on the on the back steps, watching the birds and butterflies, and laugh, she always made me laugh. Around 10 years of age, I made a friend at school and was more involved socially with others around me. My “special friend’s” visits become less and less frequent, until she stopped coming by all together. My sense is that she had done her job, and moved on, perhaps to help another child who was lonely. To this day, many years later, the memories of her conjure a feeling of warmth and comfort.