I don’t know why but turning the page on the calendar always tickles me. A fresh page. A new leaf. So many metaphors. So many hopes. What will be the image for the new month? When will the new and full moons appear? What holidays await? And always, the traces of grief wonder who left this earth this month. For thousands and thousands of years humans have marked the passing of days and celebrations welcoming the new. I guess it’s genetic. I smile. The gift of memory that differs so from the migrating geese that simply leave and the sap of autumn trees that waits for the chill before it draws down.

Without considering leap years, I have now walked this earth over 60 years and a total of 729 months. That also means I have passed through 21,873 days, 524,952 hours, and 31,497,120 seconds. Today, I turn a piece of paper that promises 1 more month, 30 more days, 720 more hours, and 43,200 more seconds.

Yet, in truth, all those days, hours, and seconds I have passed through are gone and those promised are just that – promised with no guarantee. Today stands before me a perfect gift. I remember those rare times when I have found THE perfect gift for someone. THE PERFECT gift. I sat almost trembling with eyes and heart so intent as the receiver held the gift ready to open its wrapping. My heart was bursting inside with joy and expectation.  In truth, I sit humbled now with all these numbers. Each one of those 21,873 days, 524,952 hours, and 31,497,120 seconds, sweet Life sat waiting with an even greater joy and anticipation to see how I would open the gift of today.  How often have I dashed Life’s excited heart with a less than enthusiastic response? How often have I greeted the gift with breathless wonder recognizing the love and perfection of the gift and giver?

And then the whisper, “Maybe little one, [chuckle] you need a day calendar. Yes you have dashed the gift into pieces or contempt and welcomed others with such joy I experienced infinite delight. But know, precious one, each day I hold another, remembering not the ones that have passed. Maybe, little one, to truly remind you, you need a second calendar to realize how fast and constant are my gifts of Now.”