I have a friend
let’s call her Penny, who told me a wild story about her childhood imaginary friend Emma Jean. She was as real as anyone else to Penny. She could actually see her. No one else could which made it awkward at school. Emma Jean told her when she was 12 that she had to become invisible to Penny to help teach her about death. She told her when people die they don’t really ever leave, they just become invisible. She then went on to tell Penny that her neighbor and school mate Brent would die soon in a jeep accident, and that’s why she had to let her know. Penny went home and told her parents what Emma Jean told her. She was sent to her room without supper. Two days later Brent rolled his jeep and was killed. I’ve always thought life was what we perceived it to be. This story and others like it add an element of purpose that to me makes it worth living, and dying…
