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Half His Age

{Husband & Little Girl. On the walk home from the ice cream store. April 2012.}

It is not lost on me that I am now half the age he was when he died. I am 33. He was 66. It is not lost.

I think about this. About age. Is it just a number? Or is it more than that? Is it a reflection? Of who I am, where I have been, how much time I have left? Is it a reminder? Of mortality, of morality, of Mother Nature? Or is it just a number?

Mom says Dad used to sleep on the floor next to my bassinet in his back office, in that little room where he thought his thoughts and wrote his words, in that little room where he conducted an invisible orchestra and clinked glasses with Heraclitus. And I like this image of him, a burly man, a man who played hockey and football too, curled up on soft beige, his hand reaching up and through the slats, his fingers linked in mine.

Mom says Dad used to carry me on his shoulders. That he used to carry all of us girls this way. And she told me that it would worry her, that she feared he would go over on his ankle. Because he did this sometimes; hands in his pockets, jingling his change, head in the clouds, tripping, going on.

When you lose your Dad you begin to think. You think about life and you think about death. You think about the creatures in your life, those you raise, those whose hands you hold through slats and through days, those you lift to your shoulders for strolls on street of gray.

And so. At 33, I am thinking. Because I am a thinker. Because I am Dad's daughter. Because that's what I do. I am wondering impossible things. Am I halfway through? It's a rough question, one I don't like to consider or write, but I honor it because it arrives and it demands me. But as soon as it comes, I tuck it away. And I make vows. Silent ones. Sturdy ones. To live and to live well with them and for them. To take care of myself and them.

To take care.

Because age? It is not just a number. It is more than that. A reflection. A reminder.

A reality.

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For more words on AGE, please pop over and visit Momalom's wonderful Five for Five writers. Leave a comment for a chance to win Danielle LaPorte's FIRE STARTER SESSIONS. To date, I have given away four of these because that's how much I believe in Danielle and her work. Congrats to Kelly who was yesterday's winner of this blazing new book!

How old are you? How do you feel about your age or age in general? Do you ever find yourself contemplating your own mortality? Have you lost anyone close to you? Do you feel compelled to live a healthy life to try to stick around for those who love, and need you?

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