Some believe the calendar feature on our smart phones will eventually replace wall calendars. I hope that will not be the case in my time. There is something assuring about viewing those boldly posted white numbered boxes over my first cup of morning coffee. It keeps track of my life in shorthand, clearly displayed on the wall next to the kitchen table and topped with a pleasant seasonal scene. I often think how difficult it is for the artist to choose only twelve scenes to summarize an entire year and four seasons.
As I study the snowy scene topping January, a day marked in red pops out. I almost forgot…I should get Susi’s birthday card in the mail or it will not arrive in time. I probably wouldn’t have noticed that on my phone. Isn’t the winter scene nostalgic, although it doesn’t fit our surroundings. We haven’t had any snow in Central Illinois to speak of yet this season.
I also have a wall calendar over my computer desk. Can a person my age have too many calendars? When one is retired, they provide a grid for existence. I stay within the lines, faithfully keeping my appointments. My reward is marking off yesterday’s square at the beginning of each new day. So I chart the passage of time with evidence that I fulfilled my obligations and left my mark upon it.
I think wall calendars will continue to find their place. Just as I prefer holding a book in my hands to reading digital print from a screen, tactile things made of paper have their place. Colorful calendars, well-read books and hand-written letters have their place. Their use may dwindle but those who enjoy imprinting their life onto paper as they pass will still value them. Some day my wall calendar may find its way into an antique store where people will wonder what the abbreviations, scribbles of cursive handwriting and circled days meant to the original owner. I would tell them it is a simple diary of life.