Anti-Depressant

I’ve been laying low for the past few months. Between trying to manage my on-again-off-again back pain and associated mood swings, re-learning the Art of War applications for my workplace, and coping with various-and-sundry children’s crises and syndromes, I just haven’t felt much like socializing. And so when my son’s out-of-town soccer tournament fell on the same weekend as this year’s Disney reunion, it seemed like a good opportunity for me to bow out gracefully. But my husband had other plans: “You’re going to the reunion,” he said with end-of-discussion finality. So he and The Athlete went to the tournament without me.

I left The Actor and The Four-Legged Creature at home with a babysitter, painted on a smile, dug my sunny disposition out of moth-balls, and drove to the reunion, mentally citing countless misgivings about attending. But stepping onto the patio was like crossing a threshold from fog into sunlight. Within an instant I was embraced with hugs, warm smiles, and melodious laughter. Here were people who represent some of my most cherished memories of times gone by. Here were people who knew me then and who know me now and to whom I remain timelessly connected. Here were people who live life with unflinching passion. Here were people who never fail to lead me to lightness.

We talked and laughed, reminisced and commiserated, and I could feel myself exhale. In just a few short hours they revived and recharged me with their collective generosity and wisdom, just as my husband predicted they would. The creativity, imagination, vision, and strength that filled the room were the perfect remedy for my ailing spirit. I never cease to feel humbled in the presence of this wonderfully talented group. I am profoundly grateful to call them my friends.