Friday, February 16, 2018

Reflections on another birthday.

I always find it interesting how it hits you at some point that you're suddenly that age, after you hit your birthday and the total ticks up by a year.

For me this year, it really hit me that I was 38, when I was reading a Mormon fundamentalist cult memoir, and the book said that the writer's (plural) mother who died of largely untreated breast cancer, got diagnosed late-stage at age 38.

"That's how old I am," I thought when I read that.

The writer was 19 at the time, which meant her mom had her when she was 19, too.

Lives of people who are the same age, sure can be different.

Since the book stretched largely into the present day, when different years were mentioned like 2008 and 2010 and horrible cult shit was happening to the writer in the backwoods of Idaho, I also thought of my life during those years, although she's a bit younger than I am, just to think of us existing in the our lives at the same moment in the same country, in such different ways.

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