I hate calendars. I used to love them......pretty pictures taken by the best photographers, keepsakes of our past, reminders of the year's events. Now I hate them....pretty pictures, keepsakes of my past, reminders of events past. Little squares with numbers, telling what days to be sad and reflective. Maybe I don't WANT to remember what tomorrow is. Maybe I don't want to know that Mother's Day is, as in 1987, the day after my son's birthday. Maybe I am tired of getting depressed about a box on the calendar! I'm tired of crying at night, tired of songs that remind me of someone I will never, in this life, see again, tired of feeling so out of control, tired of being told how strong I am. I don't feel strong. I feel like I should be............I don't know. I don't feel like I am doing well with the calendar end of all this. I do really well day to day, but then I look at that damned calendar! It torments me. It keeps telling me things I already know, but maybe, just maybe, I would like to be able to put in the back of my mind. It won't let me........I hate calendars.