With a mother and sister who had breast cancer, the odds for the same thing happening in my lifetime have always been high; one medical study has shown my risk to be five times greater than other women my age. I never liked those odds.
The date is February 12, 2009: Will unsuspecting bank customers and shoppers notice that the Lincoln Memorial has been replaced with a log cabin? Will they realize that this is the first design change the penny has had since 1959, when the memorial replaced wheat stalks?
“You know Muhammad Ali loves babies,” a woman behind me said, grinning at my son who had calmed down. “Yes,” I responded even though I really didn’t. It hadn’t mattered to know that before.
I realized that this was the last time I’d get you up for school. This particular morning was the final day of your senior year.
As I heard the shuffle of feet and mumbled chatter just above me, I shook my head in disbelief. Was I really squatted under the gymnasium bleachers?
I’ve chosen this lucky day to post my first ever paid-to-be-published piece here, blasting it into cyberspace amidst the dust of comets and stars and words that live forever.