Calendar Girl

Any adult who has a mom and/or a grandma knows about calendars.  My mom gets a steady stream of them in the mail starting in the fall.  They come in the form of a thank you for her donation, or as a freebee bribe to please send a donation, or as a thinking of you from the funeral home that Mom was used for her mother in 1992.  Currently, I have three left over for this year, two of which are sitting in a drawer in my night stand.  This doesn’t include the assorted calendars that Mom gave me which I passed on to my daughter, my granddaughter, my grandson, my son, and my daughter-in-law, or simply threw into the recycle bin.  And the 2012 issues are starting to pour in.

At least now it’s only my mother handing these things out like candy corn on Halloween.  When Bill’s mom, Kate, was alive, the quantity we received doubled.  Kate would save them up throughout the autumn months and when we went to Pittsburgh to visit during the holidays, she’d have a large manila envelope filled with them.  When we tried to get out of accepting them by explaining that the companies we each worked for gave us business calendars, she’d simply hide them in the bottom of our suitcase.

So, now its October and I already have four calendars for 2012.  I figure November and December will bring at least another dozen.  So far I’ve given one to Amber, our nine-year-old granddaughter and one to Jamie, our daughter-in-law, chucked out a third and buried the fourth in a desk drawer in our office.

I don’t know why I don’t have the spine to just say no.  Maybe it’s the crushed look in Mom’s eyes when I turn down the gift of knowing what day it is.  And the worst part is, I’m turning into the mom and the grandma that’s passing out the damned calendars.  Is this what the true cycle of life is?  Is this how I want to be remembered?  Beloved Wife, Mother, Nana and Calendar Girl on my tombstone?  I don’t think so!


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