Guess what I was doing two years ago today. No cheating. Wow. You totally just cheated.
But yes. We are going right back down this rabbit hole. And fair warning – we likely have many years ahead of us doing the exact same thing. So prepare to tuck and roll folks, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride.
Two years ago today I wandered the halls of a hospital looking for the Labor and Delivery unit. (Which, by the by, they hide on the top floor – that makes no sense.) They hooked me up to machines. And we waited. And then I was admitted. It didn’t look good.
I still vividly remember Dr. Meyer shaking his head at me. “Not viable.” He was not a doctor who gave me warm fuzzies.
It was April 22. I was 22 weeks pregnant.
I’m not superstitious. I don’t believe spooks and spirits are out to get me. (Although the cafetorium theatre at my high school was TOTALLY haunted; I’ll tell you about Agnes another day. And as a friend so sweetly stated, “There is normal paranoia, and then there’s you.” My paranoia is perfectly normal, thankyouverymuch.) But I digress. So, in short: Paranoid – yes. Superstitious – no.
“Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t after you.” (Catch-22)
However, apparently the number 22 has a sinister way of rearing its ugly head with my family.
I learned about this familial Friday 13 the day G.G. died. January 22.
Twenty years to the day prior, January 22, Aunt Margaret passed away. Weird. But two decades – that’s just an odd coincidence.
Two years ago, February 22. Baby C became the muppets guardian angel. The two friends that knew that day sent flowers.
March 22 is GrandpaStavo’s birthday. Even though he’s old, we’re going to count this 22 as a positive. Also, Grandma Nancy was 22 when she had Jon. So clearly it’s not a completely ominous number.
And in fact, May 22 is the date of my grandparents trust. Because it’s like they knew someone would point out super sucky 22 trivia and they wanted to send a sign from above noting, “Don’t panic; we got your back.”
But it was two years ago today. Already. We look back on that, as the twins are just about to turn two.
“Insanity is contagious.” (Catch-22)
Twenty-two. 22. Just in case I’ll be in my bunker with my tinfoil hat. At least I got held in cell 5 those two years ago. That’s my lucky number. This is what I was thinking when I climbed into the helicopter tonight for a two hour flyover of the Silicon Valley.
What weird symbols or legends do you find popping up in your family lore?