The Expansion of Calendar Squares


Two nights ago I leaned over and asked if JD was awake. It was 2 a.m.. I propped my pillow and let my mind run wild when he didn’t respond. In the darkness I realized I was letting things fall by the wayside, primarily time spent with my family. The people closest to me are my top priority, but based on the amount of time I’ve dedicated to seeing them lately, there’s room for doubt. And it hurts to admit this.

With wedding season being at its peak and my time spread thin, I crafted completely legitimate excuses why I couldn’t drop everything and visit my mother for lunch…but I somehow made time for other things. This is what kept me awake at 2 a.m. in the morning. Yes, my mother–and her infamous guilt trips–permeated my sleep…and you thought your mom was tough!

Yesterday I made plans to break plans. To throw my preexisting commitments out the window and find a way to nuzzle my face in the ivory curve of my mother’s neck. A few years ago, when my mother battled the worst of her cancer, I cried for the time I thought I lost with her, all those future lunch dates that wouldn’t be spread in tiny squares of my calendar. And yet. Six years into her remission and I am what? Busy?!

How quickly time fades the empty promises of a broken heart.

Just after an afternoon photo shoot in Los Angeles, we met my mother and little sister, Zoe, for dinner. Over Inca Kola and lomo saldado at our favorite Peruvian restaurant, we laughed and mopped the food on our plates with soft bread rolls. It was night that filled every inch of my calendar square. And ever-mending heart.