This first week of March has held odd scores for me these past years —

This past winter has been one of the coldest and snowiest in a while. Except for the staunchest of my winter-loving friends, most of us in the Northeastern US, in particular, have all reached our saturation point and want it all gone already. Seeing a string of temperatures above 40 degrees forecast for the next week and the hope of Spring finally arriving lightens my mood.  Even though there is snow on the ground and a chance of sprinkles soon, the worst of it seems to be over. The thought of not having to shovel again and soon being able to put my down coat away for the season warms me immensely.

It also helps that there is a celebration of my firstborn’s birth in a couple of days. Like all mamas of adult children, I can still see the wide-eyed sparkle of those newborn eyes brought home oh so many years ago in the very same eyes that will now roll over two score later, yet again, in some annoyance that I’ve inflicted upon them -probably happily inflicted knowing me. I’m Mommie – it’s in the unwritten job description that can’t be retired from.

But this year marks a score I saw coming, yet it snuck up on me regardless: a score, as in I became a widow twenty years ago today.

When he passed, he had been pretty much half my life – literally and figuratively. Now, I have spent as much time without him in my adult life as I had with him, and roughly a third of my life overall. It’s an odd dichotomy.

I remember once telling someone, “One day at a time?” Right now, I’m just trying to get through one minute at a time.” And now twenty years’ worth of minutes are in the rear-view. That’s exactly where it is, and where it should be – in the rear-view.

As I posted on Facebook earlier:

A Score of Time Flying
The heart doesn’t break anymore.
The heart doesn’t love any less.

I still see and feel that presence; it will always be there, but I’m still going forward.

Still warming up, still celebrating, and a score later, still marching on…

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Day 1 of the March Slice of Life Challenge