| Phoenix (凤凰) ( @ 2009-10-17 16:52:00 |
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| Current mood: | uncomfortable |
| Entry tags: | family |
the world keeps turning
Twenty years ago today, I was a wee baby on the verge of learning how to walk. My dad was in San Francisco for the World Series, and Mum and I were at home. I was in my high chair, Mum tells me, when the ground started to shake. She says she picked me up, and glared at the brand-new glass doors and told them not to dare break (they did.) Lost the top of our chimney -- the broken-off bit is still sitting around outside filling up with dirt and stuff. Apparently I stopped trying to walk for a little while.
This was the only major earthquake I've ever lived through. And it seems odd, somehow, to think it's been twenty years.
Time passes. Today my baby brother sat at the table, reading the horrible local newspaper and gulping down tea as he called out interesting items to everyone in hearing range ("it rained 10.28 inches in that storm! Some lady turned 102!") as per family tradition, and I had this moment of being severely weirded out because how can he be old enough to do that? He's ten, which seems a lot younger than it did nearly eleven years ago when I was excited to be in double digits.
And I'm turning 21, which is somehow a lot less scary-feeling than turning twenty was. Twenty's too boring and awkwardly in-between, I guess.