Eighteen months

Eighteen months, the technical name for a year and a half, doesn't seem like such a long time when written down.

But it is a lot longer than a year. The pace of change picks up. The past becomes smaller in the rear view mirror. The future gets closer, incomprehensible though it still is.

Persistence pays off in strange and awkward and wonderful ways. New experiences keep happening. Things that are wonderful are muted. Things no longer mean what they used to mean. Every momentous event grows a tail of "if only" or "what if".

Stumbling across shared online calendars like I did today is also awkward and throws things into stillness.