The Date

When I say "the date" I mean, "what is the number on this day?"

Dates and time mean so little to me.  It's not like I can remember the time anything happened, although I know it was about 4:50 p.m. on a Sunday when V called me on my cell phone to end our relationship.  I know the exact spot I was standing in a store in Jensen Beach because the floor took on a new dimension and began to crawl up my legs.  I wanted to ask for a moment so I could find a place to sit down and breathe.  I should have.

I am no longer lingering over her, I just use it as an expanded example to show what would make something memorable enough.  And maybe I am still recognizing the lessons that came from my time with her.

Anyway...  no dates mean little to me and time is just something measured so that people show up around the same time in the same place, pretty much.  The exact time of something isn't all that relevant.  When someone dies, they have to know the time of death, but it is the fact of death that really matters.

I remember what day in 1996 that my mother died, but I do not become morose on that day every year.  I think that kind of behavior is for fools.  I celebrate her life daily, by sharing her good gifts to my character.

That's all I have to say on this subject for now.