Narrative

Figment

Jeanna G2 Comments

While coaching volleyball one night this summer, we had only 6 girls show up to play. I said, “I guess I’ll just be over on the bench by myself this match!” One of the players replied, “Nah, your imaginary friend can keep you company!”

What she doesn’t know is that, when I was a child, I had a whole imaginary crew to keep me company. Despite being the youngest of five kids growing up in my house, I did a lot of playing on my own. Except, I didn’t sound like I was alone because I was usually talking to my good friend, Tommy. No one else could see or hear him, but he was very real to me. He even drove a red blazer!

I don’t know how I had time for Tommy though, because I was very busy raising my thirteen kids in the land of make-believe. Maybe I heard one too many nursery rhymes about women living in shoes, otherwise I have no clue where else that whopper of a storyline could have come from. Now I don’t think I ever blamed Tommy when I got in trouble, but people sure did start to wonder what his relationship was with my kids.

I overheard my daughter talking to herself the other day, so I peeked around the corner to see if maybe she had a Tommy of her own. She was dancing, jumping around, and laughing, so I thought it must be her imagination running wild in there! Then I heard another voice and realized she was on FaceTime with a friend. Strange as it seems, I was somewhat disappointed that I was wrong! Well, I’m not disappointed that her friends are not figments of her imagination, I just hope that she’s allowing her imagination to reach its full potential.

Around the same time that I was hanging out with Tommy, I was fascinated with the Disney character named Figment. He was a purple dragon-like creature who would put on a multitude of disguises and use his imagination to discover all sorts of things. Maybe Figment is why I still can’t make up my mind about who I want to be when I grow up. Why be one thing when you can be so much more (or at least pretend to be)?

Life: An Everlasting Scavenger Hunt

Jeanna G2 Comments

As I checked my credit card statement, and retraced my steps to finally find my credit card in the pocket of my pants, a week after misplacing it, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the many scavenger and treasure hunts I went on as a child.

I went on hunts at birthday parties, on Easter morning, as an event with my youth group and extracurricular clubs. One required us to take a Polaroid picture at each new location to prove we had been there. One was a service-themed hunt, in which we had to collect different types of trash from around town. Some gave us prizes at each stop along the way, and some only had one prize at the end, whether we got there first or last. But all of them had us traveling all over the place, unsure if we were looking for the right thing or going in the right direction. Along the way, we’d pick up random, worthless items to cling to as prizes to prove we could follow directions and solve riddles. Oftentimes we just walked in circles, feeling a little lost, hoping to get a clue.

Now that I think about it, those hunts sound like my daily adult life.

Maybe that’s the whole point of those scavenger hunts: to prepare us for a life of finding what we are looking for.

But Did You Live?

Jeanna G2 Comments

I catered an event last night that was out in the middle of Nowhere, NC. When I pulled in, the owner met me on his UTV, and told me to follow him through the hayfield to the backside of the venue, and that’s where I could park. Going in was no problem. After the event and a massive downpour, in the dark with no escort, I started to think twice about driving through a field. And in that moment, I thanked God for being so dumb in high school.

Where I grew up, we got pretty creative with our party spots in order to keep them out of the police spotlight. Woods, cornfields, creeks, sandpits, the quarry, mountain tops, the end of an airstrip… Been there, done that. We also had to be pretty adventurous to be willing to try to get there, mindful of all possible exits in case we had to flee in a pinch, and imaginative with our excuses of how that mud got all over the tires and that dent got in the fender. It actually takes a lot of brain power to be dumb.

Thinking back on all the risks I took, it’s a wonder I’m not dead. I get a kick out of that line from Hangover when Chow asks, “But did you die?” Sitting in that field last night, I was grateful for my near-death experiences. I’m a lot less dumb at my current age, but more importantly, I know I can say “yes” when asked, “But did you live?”