Leap Day

I heard a funny story on NPR yesterday. Sometimes they just get ordinary people to talk, right in the middle of “Morning Edition,” and that’s my favorite thing. First they did their newsy, scientific bit on how a tropical year is really 365.242199 days, and how the Gregorians, those champions of simplicity, made the calendar thing work adding a day every fourth year.

Then a 64-year-old woman named Rose Bunch told her story of having a February 29 birthday. How when she was a girl, she’d start asking for a birthday party, and her dad would say something like, “I don’t know… you better go look at the calendar. I don’t think your birthday’s on there this year…” And she would look, and of course it wasn’t there, and she’d burst into tears. And then her mom gave her dad a scolding, but still. The poor little thing.

On the up side, Rose revealed the sheer delight in holding her Sweet 16 this year – and she’s not even lying about her age.

As time continues to fly – to, in fact, accelerate – the calendar pages flapping across the screen of my life like in an old black and white movie – I’ve learned to cherish Leap Day. It’s like a little gift, this bonus day, once every four years, right at the end of the fastest month. It always reminds me to slow down and savor the moment.