Numbers fascinate me! No, not usually when I’m struggling to balance a long, difficult bank statement or trying to get a long column of numbers to add up to the same total more than once. And, having run my own bookkeeping business for over 12 years I’ve done a few of those. But, numbers have their own story, their own poetry.
In autumn 2008 I had my 54th birthday. I know! I know! I only look 29 – thank you Oil of Olay! Anyway… I am 54. I was born in the year 1954, 27 years after my mother’s birth. And, I am twice the age my mum was when she gave birth to me!
So, at age 27, in 1954, my mum gave birth to a beautiful, intelligent, full of potential baby girl – yes, me. Today I am twice the age my mother was when I was born, 54, having been born in 1954! Which means that in 27 years I will be the age my mother is now – 81 – if I am still here on earth.
My mum and dad have three children, two girls and a boy. The oldest was born in October, the next in May and the last in February.
My husband and I have three children, a girl and two boys. The oldest was born in February, the next in May and the last in October.
My daughter and her husband have three children, two girls and a boy. The oldest was born in October, the next in May and the next in…wait for it…September. Hmm, I guess he broke the mould, maybe that will be the story of his life.
Numbers tell stories. Someone at age 32 has a story. The number gives a clue as to parts of the story and a good guess at the length. Someone who is 85 has a story. The number tells us their story will be long and will include incredible change.
We’re always inquiring about numbers. How old are you? When’s your birthday? When were you married? How many children do you have? What is your income?!
I am a writer. I love words. But, over my 54 years, I’ve discovered that numbers tell a story too. They have a mystery all their own.
Let’s journey together.
© 2009 Denise Budd Rumble