Today is September 16th.
It is the day after September 15th.
Back in late August, I wrote a post titled Legacy about the importance of this date:
Mother died on September 15th, 1994, exactly one month after her 51st birthday.
In less than a month, if I am still alive (knock on wood!), I will have outlived her whole lifespan.
Welp. Here we are, and I’ve made it.
I’ve survived longer than my mother’s whole, entire, bookended lifespan.
It’s not a triumph, in the sense that I have done anything to earn applause for it. I simply kept going and got lucky.
Unfortunately, while Mother also kept going, she was exceptionally unlucky, leastwise when it came to her mental and physical health. I have not escaped unscathed — I’ve suffered clinical depression and anxiety, I’ve injured my back, I’ve cycled through endless attempts at “losing weight” — but I am, overall, healthy, and probably healthier at this age and state than my mother ever was a single day of her life.
I am honestly not sure how I feel about it, but I suspect it is why today is a Crying Day.
I have always said that if I did not take after Mother and die young, then I would likely take after my father’s side of the family and live to be at least 100. In fact my personal goal is to make it to 140, an entirely reasonable goal given advances in medicine and wellness (…I mean, if the world doesn’t keep at it’s downward slide into dystopia like it’s wearing greased roller skates on a ski jump).
But assuming that’s true, it gives me another 50 years to play with, possibly 90.
I don’t think I’ve excelled much at this life, partly because there has been the low-key expectation since I was a teen that I would not live very long. Still, I have always thought to myself: surely I can do better.
Mother couldn’t do better, mostly due to circumstances beyond her control. She died full of regret and anger. I have a lot of that in me too, but unlike her, I have the opportunity to unravel that knot of bitterness and shame.
So maybe this life of mine is, in a way, her legacy too.
