I was at the Wellness Centre with my mom, doing other excercises, then collect at the badminton court to bat the birdie around, and it hit me. Yes, the birdie did bonk me in the middle of my forehead, but another thing hit me. I'll grow old, still batting the old birdie back and forth with my mom when she's 96. People will see me on the court with my mom and comment on how we've been attending the Centre for decades, and how we're still terrible at it. I'll be in the same stinky old gym wear, my mom will have a wig to cover her small afro, and her asthma will worsten, but she'll wave it off valiantly, saying it's nothing, and to bat that birdie at her. I'll be the old lady living with her mother. Others will assume my dad is long past, for he'd be 100yers old, but he'd be at home, in front of the tv, phoning me on my cellphone and asking how to work the DVD player, or the receiver to get the sound out of the speakers, which will take fifteen minutes. I'd then pause to gather my patience before re-explaining the remote control.

Whatever is going on in my life presently, it always feels like that's my fate for the next 50 years.