I can’t remember a time when I felt less my age than I do now. It wasn’t an instant transformation — I didn’t wake up one morning, remember it was my birthday and spend the rest of the day in the fetal position, sobbing quietly into my pillow. It’s been a more gradual change, an ever-increasing sense of doom, all wrapped up in layers of panic and denial. Continue reading →
My mother broke every plate in the house that day. I wasn’t surprised that she was frustrated and angry, but she had always been a yeller, never a thrower or breaker. This was something new.