Lippy is a funny name.
I can’t tell you her age, because as far as I could tell she was ageless.
But as I approach 50, I am gaining an appreciation for cheerful people. Don’t tell anybody though. I still cajole them for having such an “unrealistic” point of view, but deep down, I envy them and to some degree cherish them.
Where I saw the dirt under my feet, she noticed the floating specks in the sunshine.
Where I saw a cloudy, dismal day, she welcomed the refreshing water.
Where I might be annoyed by people, she chuckled at the quirks of humanity.
When I shuffled through the hallway, her smile lifted my spirit.
Spreading cheer is a thankless job I’m sure. Because those of us who need it most generally don’t show our appreciation.
So thanks, Lippy. And thanks to all you other annoying cheerful people. I probably won’t say it to your face, but we who frequent the hole of depression cherish you more than you’ll ever understand.
It was good having you around. I’ll think of you when I see sunshine making the dust shimmer and sparkle in the air, as you did.