“I am 72,” she said without missing a beat. “I am 72 years old today”. And that’s how, for the first time, I learned my mother’s age.
Just like grandma before her, my mom has always been terrified of aging. Which is why, every year, on her birthday, I ask “so, how old are you now?” I do it for fun, knowing the answer will be the same, a scolding for my audacity follow by “don’t you ask me that again.” But I keep asking, year after year, mainly for the inside joke it became.
Last week the joke was on me. After congratulating mom for her birthday I honored the tradition of professing the forbidden words. “So, mom, how old are you again?” She didn’t blink and, for once, told me, behind a confident smile, the full length of her existence on this planet.
At last, I know my mother’s age. She’s finally free to tell me and, with her permission, I am now telling you and the entire world. Mom is a stunning 72-year-old woman.
Happy freedom day to mom. I don’t what in this world changed her mind to embrace the calendar with such conviction. But I am happy for her.
Next week is my turn. Don't ask.
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Have a gelato,
Rodrigo Bressane
Hertfordshire, UK
Making peace with time
Happy Birthday Rodrigo!🙌🏼
A big happy birthday to your mom; and one to you! Wish you both all the best :)