2400

My 11-year old and I figured out a short time ago that there are approximately 2400 days left until June of her senior year. It might not be the day she graduates or moves out, but it was a good marker of how many days of her childhood we have left to spend together. And her "childhood" is certainly going to pass by long before then. It gave me pause to put a hard number to those days.

"2400" is now a mantra for my daily interactions with her, as I know it's so easy for me to focus on her exasperating habits or annoying shortcomings, especially since she has entered puberty and is approaching teen-dom. This numeric reminder now serves to help me put those annoyances into perspective. "2400" I think as she rolls her eyes at me when I ask her to pick her clothes up off the bathroom floor or unearth her desk and bed from the mound of random belongings piled on top of them. "2400" I think as she grumbles about bedtime or TV limits.

"2400" also serves as a gratitude counter, filling me with joy that I have that many more days still to enjoy her unique and funny and unpredictable presence. "2400" I think as she rushes blurting mid-sentence into the kitchen, her cockatiel perched on her shoulder, pointe shoes on her feet, as she answers my beckon to unload the dishwasher. "2400" I think as I watch her perform ballet and Celtic dance on stage, draw in her sketchbook, or ride her horse into a herd of cattle to separate out a steer with a blue ear tag. "2400" I think as we snuggle together and watch a gripping episode of "Agents of SHIELD" or "Dr. Who." "2400" I think as I tuck her in and read a chapter of Redwall aloud to her, grateful that she still appreciates and cherishes our bedtime routine.

Of course, 2400 is no guarantee, either. It could be 1400, or 400, or one. Tragedies befall even those who are cognizant of the clock ticking.

I remember snippets of song lyrics: "Life is just another terminal disease"..."Live just like you're dying"..."I want to live like there's no tomorrow." There is wisdom in those words, to be sure. But for me, "2400" has proven to be the most potent reenforcement of the idea they contain. And the sad thing is, I know that number is now in the 2300's, as we calculated this a few weeks back. My hope is that our good days will outweigh our bad, and that the days we spend enjoying each other's company will have the effect of multiplying those days. Sometimes I think the feeling we get of time passing too quickly is a result of time spent unsatisfactorily, that unhappy days seem to subtract more than their actual total from our allotment of time with our loved ones.

So here's to multiplying today by two...or three, or more!