I am fifty-five years old. 55. Double-nickels. I wrote the number; I observed the number, and since then I have been musing about my life’s journey. It’s an odd sensation to accept my body has carried around my mind for 55 revolutions around the heliocentric center, better known as the Sun. When I was a child, I thought that 55 years old equaled near death. “Sucks to be you, dude!” With my mother’s death last December 2nd during her 83rd travel around the Sun, the experience has graced Continue Reading
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