The Final Countdown

I have long held on to this idea, this notion, that there’s something personally apocalyptic about approaching the exact age of my mother at the time of her death.

What that exactly means has changed many times. I was never meant to surpass her in age, perhaps. As a result, I won’t. As a result, my mental health won’t allow it. I will burn out. I will expire. Maybe it will be an accident.

Maybe, by accident, I’ll wake up 26 days after my 40th birthday and go to sleep that night perfectly safe and well. What then? It will be some kind of achievement? A miracle?

Maybe I’ll live a full life, such as it is.

I guess we’ll find out sometime around mid-September.