Solo

I was going through some old papers looking for my social security card.  I haven’t found it yet but I did come across a paper I wrote my freshmen year of college.  

It was an interview I had with my mother for my human nutrition class.  I had to ask her about the circumstances around my birth.  I learned a lot.  26 or so years ago I weighed 8 lbs, 3.5 oz.  Five months into her pregnancy she went into renal failure, and doctors encouraged her to abort me.  Instead she chose to take me to term.  She thought I was a beautiful baby, but she knew that I was something special when the nurses wanted to use me as a demo baby.

About a month after that interview, she died.  She lived 42 years, 10 months, 7 days.  
Broken down, that comes out to 15,654 days.

  1. 1,352,505,600 seconds
  2. 22,541,760 minutes
  3. 375,696 hours
  4. 2,236 weeks (rounded down)

That she was alive.  One the day she died, I had been alive 991 weeks.  Or 19 years, 1 day.  That’s 6,941 days.  A little under half of her life.

I miss her.

The Author

Sean Oliver

Sean Oliver is a management consultant in Seattle, WA