I stare out the living room window. Children parade on the grass and tug at Ama’s skirt. It takes me back to that day 14 years ago that changed my life forever — parenthood.
Seeing how much my 66-year-old mother thrives as a grandmother gives me anxiety. She does not act a day over 30. How could I not dread getting older, if already at 30 I feel tired and am ready for bed at 8 p.m.? It’s not the lack of energy that burdens me; it’s aging as a person of color in today’s world.