A MEETING WITH THE MONTHS
What would it be like to meet with the months? I closed my eyes and there I was somewhere in a colorful timeless lounge with the months all seated and relaxed.
I asked them how long they had been together hoping to discover when time began.
“We’ve been together since—well as long as I can remember,” said January.
“It’s been a long time,” said July. “I doubt whether any of us can remember when we first got together.”
“And after all this time together,” said September, “we get along for the most part.”
“Sometimes March gets pissed off at me, ” said February, “when I decide to stay an extra day. March, you should be getting used to it by now.”
“Yes, I guess,” said March. “But it always takes me by surprise, and that’s when I get angry. I get ready to start and I’m all prepared only to find out that February is taking another day. I wish February would make up its mind whether to be twenty-eight days or twenty-nine days. All the other months keep the same days. Why can’t you, February?”
“I don’t know,” said February. “Every so often I have a need to have an extra day. I don’t know why. Why do you, March, have thirty-one days and April, June, September, and November only have thirty?”
“I don’t know,” said March. “It’s the way we were created.”
“Exactly!” said February. “I was created to need an extra day every so often.”
“As I said,” said September, “we get along for the most part.”
“I have no complaints with my colleagues,” said November. “We’re all just working together to carry the year.”
“I agree with November,” said June. “And I never realized that some of us have less days than others. I see as as months doing our jobs. Having twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty or thirty-one days makes no difference as to our worth as months.”
All the months nodded in agreement.
“I’d be lost without them, and so would my fellow years,” said Two Thousand and Fifteen who appeared out of nowhere.
“Two Thousand and Fifteen?” I said. “I thought that I was only meeting the months here.”
“It is just months,” said Two Thousand and Fifteen, “but when you get twelve months together, you have a year.”
“Of course,” I said. “How silly of me not to realize that.”
“If you will excuse me,” said March, “I have to get back to St. Patrick’s Day.”
And all the other months agreed that they should leave, too.
I thanked them for spending some time with me.