The Moments That Take My Breath Away

I'm sitting here at my desk on this very grey, drizzly day planning my next newsletter, perusing the calendar on the wall when the dates hit me over and over again -- not figuratively, but literally feeling as if I was punched in the chest. Dates that were put on the calendar months ago...last week a reminder in Outlook announcing "180 days," the calendar on my wall noting week eight, week seven, week six, week five, four, ...dates that mean nothing other than I've survived another day without your love, without your humor and with sadness as I see you on the calendar today. Your son's birthday is less than a month away, your visit back home another month away. Countdowns to planned events. Moments of mutual excitement as together we watched the months and weeks pass by.

Alone today, my calendar is now my personal hell. I really hope this isn't what the quote that every so often makes its way into my emails about "it's not the moments that you breath that make your life, but the moments that take your breath away (George Carlin, RIP)" If these are those moments, I'd rather not breath. I have learned to hate my calendar. And it's not like I couldn't just delete the dates and never see them again, I could, sure, I could -- but when I try to do it, I just can't, please don't make me. It would be like deleting you out of my memories like you never happened.

So, I tell myself, today just breath. Just breath. Just breath.