Surfacing

So it was at the birthday party of my youngest daughter's best friend when the weight of another lie became unbearable. My girl ran happily about with the other kids; barefoot in a sequined mermaid dress, glittered tulle in her hair, and a heart painted on her smiling face.

"Actually, no, I am not partnered. We lost the girls' dad to mental illness about a year ago- we are unsure whether or not he is still alive, at this point we presume he is dead."

I think we were both surprised by my answer to a question so often asked and left unanswered.

I had considered sharing my usual lie in response to her question.  But somehow I could not, not with this woman who smiled with kindness at me every day.  Each morning we joined our daughters to read stories in our poorly accented Spanish to the kindergarten classroom. She had my respect for those quiet moments of courage; the rest of the mothers read with fluidity and in lilting accents.

I could not start another journey bearing the weight of feigning normal.

And then,  she shared .... her story.

And with that my journey back to the surface began.