1212

We always used to note when we saw 11:11 on the clock or 1111 in an address. It was our thing. It was something that Peggy had shared with me and I had shared with you. It was our way of letting each other know we were thinking of each other.

When you passed away, I noticed 1111 all the time. It was special but painful. However, little by little, I catch that time less and less. I might see 11:12 or 10:11, but never 11:11. It bothered me for a while, but then I began noticing something else. 12:12 or 1212.

This morning when I got up, these lyrics from an Anna Nalick song (Breathe) came to mind.

"Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button, boys,
So sing it if you understand,
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe"

I then got up and went for a run.

When I run, my mind wanders all over the place. I hear song lyrics; I have "woulda, coulda, shoulda" conversations with myself; I complain about the branches on the sidewalk; I wonder why people don't bring in their stinky trashcans…it goes on and on.

On the last stretch of my run, I noticed the address 1212. It gave me a new perspective. 1111 was our thing, our time, our place. We will always have that time, but I am eventually going to have to move on - move forward in time, move forward to another place, a place where I can remember you fondly and without pain. I am naming that time and place 1212. I look forward to that time and place.

In the mean time, IMYAITOY (I miss you and I'm thinking of you.)