Fifty Years

When my children were young, one huge worry was— Will I  live till I am fifty? It haunted me. No one knows what is in store for them. I could only hope and pray. With the early death of my own mother, I didn’t want my own children growing motherless. To me it was the biggest calamity which could happen in a child’s life.

Most women in my family had died young. My aunts, maternal grandmother, mother — they didn’t survive. Thanks to God, I hanged on despite the many operations in my life.

After fifty I look back at life. It is a bonus.




Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.

9 thoughts on “Fifty Years”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s