One thing about time in a new place– it just flows over you, no real rhyme or rhythm, no familiar milestones to mark its passing. Without the falling leaves, without the crisp nights, without the wind storms, the Halloween decorations being torn down and the Thanksgiving signs being put up … we have stood still for nearly seven weeks.
Which is probably why, as I sat at the breakfast table the other morning, I was jolted to a realization.
“Phineas! It’s almost your birthday!”
He looked at me, blinked, and smirked.
“My birthday?”
I told him yes.
“My birthday?” he checked again.
Then we both sat grinning over our oatmeal.
Something to look forward to. Something that is not an as-we-have-always-known-it Thanksgiving feast that will not materialize, or something so new that we will be caught up in the tailspin of a learning curve, no matter how delightful it is.
A birthday.
We can do that.