Dear L.,

Did I ever tell you about my friend Jackson? We met about a year or so ago. I was in a really grumpy mood and sometimes when I’m grumpy it is a really good time to pull out my drawing book and art materials to draw. Drawing is funny that way. One minute your, happy, or grumpy or just neutral, but when you start to draw you forget all about those things, and you only notice how your pen or crayon feels moving on the paper. It’s a very good feeling. This time a little boy — smaller than you, showed up on my paper. He was outside and he was look through a window into a room with at a toy train in it. I could tell he really wanted to play with that train and I felt kind of sad for him. But he wasn’t sad. He told me that sometimes you just get left out of things, and that’s okay. He told me his name was Jackson and that he liked to think. “Sometimes,” he said, “other people don’t understand quiet people who like to think.” I told him that I knew all about that and then we just smiled at each other and we knew we were friends.

I guess you could say Jackson was an imaginary friend, and isn’t that just the best thing about imagination? You can make any friends you want.

XOXO

Grandma