I always played that Pollyanna ‘glad game’. You know, that mental game you use to create something to look forward to each new day. It could be the smallest, most insignificant thing but it’s always something; something to help you anticipate the next day, the next week. And sometimes, in this crazy life, you need those little ‘somethings’ badly.
I won’t say Pollyanna has left the building but now I find her annoying and clueless. I can’t seem to play the future game now, even for the next morning. All I want to do is find a way back – back to when I could hear my husband turn his key in the door. I want to turn back the clock to see my man on the couch in his spot next to the end table, where he used to tease he had ‘squatter’s” rights. Continue reading