Finding Your Own Dream
Humans love anniversaries—birthdays and weddings particularly. There is something special about coming of age at 21 or reaching the first wedding anniversary—that is if marriage was chosen as an option. But there are anniversaries that seem to lurk under the radar of remembrance—yes, the year that your father died of cancer or your mother died of heart disease. These anniversaries are not celebrated but are rather feared. Many of my friends have silently approached such an anniversary with dread.
My own father died of cancer at age forth-seven after he had sired eleven children and helped to deliver ten of them. Money was scarce and no doctor was ever called in those days. But since my mother was pregnant with me when my father died, she had to call a doctor for the first time when I came into the world. From that time on I suppose my brothers silently feared approaching the age of 47 and as luck would have it, all of them reached that age safely.
