I stood in the kitchen and flipped the calendar

Wondering which phone call, which conversation, will be the last? 

I’m not sure 

June has passed

Like high school 

Like my wedding day 

All times I thought would never come 

Now gone like January’s flurries 

Just like my 20s and half of my 30s

There’s a cactus for the July photo 

In a parched desert 

Ironically forestry green but with those spiky-like needles 

I pondered past Julys and all the people 

My old church would host a 4th of July bash

Burgers, preaching, games, watermelon, American flags

I remember the pictures I took – with my digital camera back then

After the daytime festivities me and my best friend would go to the pool 

Eat ice cream 

I’d surreptitiously glance at him – the guy that would become my husband

Now me and him are still happily together – some 16 years later 

Everyone else in the photos have moved on 

I guess to something greater?

A few are in heaven 

My best friend was one of seven

Her family packed up and went to Florida

That old church crumbled

I guess that’s several calendars for ‘ya

And I remember visiting my cousin just before fireworks

Just last Christmas her house burned – completely down

I haven’t talked to her since Christmas 

Am I a grinch?

Sometimes my soul feels like that cactus

Standing alone in the desert 

The earth cracking around me 

But the blocks in the calendar always find a way to repeat

I’m mostly on autopilot, just waiting for my own tragedy

My heart stops whenever my parents call 

There’s a longing in my husband’s soul 

What happens when you reach all your goals?

When all your leaders die and your friends move away?

The next generation comes in like a wave 

Just like the continuous blocks on the calendar page 

Down on the 26th block I had penned in Staycation

With an arrow that goes on to the next page 

At the reminder, my spirit flooded with elation

My husband came in through the back door 

Handed me a bouquet of sunflowers 

We stood there in front of the calendar and hug 

I felt like I turned green again

We both drank some water there in the kitchen 

He asked me, “What are these?” as he looked down at the floor

Around my feet were some needles

I wasn’t much of a cactus anymore