My father would have been 83 years old today. Before leaving us almost 11 years ago, by his hospital bed in the middle of the night while everyone was soundly asleep, my mother felt his warm and tight embrace seemingly implying of finally letting go. He was 72. Naturally sad as we were, at any rate, we were consoled by the fact that he succumbed to a considered most-painful cancer (pancreatic) peacefully.
Quite the opposite, just the other day, my wife’s grandaunt went through a bumpy path. A coarse course so to speak as she was among 41 passengers who chanced on their demise in the course of a bus falling off a 150-foot deep ravine. She was 57. It was tragic.
Come to think of it, 57 could be the “mystified” opposite form of 72. The position of “7”, a considered lucky number, was switched. “5” when flipped vertically is “2”. 5 + 2 = 7 but “lucky number” has presumably been severed with the bigger apportionment of the now split luck seems to live up to its oddness which is “5”, an odd number. “2” is even. Thus, “57” appears to mean “odd luck” while “72” is “lucky even”.
Should you calculate based on the figures above, my father was born in 1927. I was born in 1972. When he died, I was 27. What could that mean? Will I suffer the opposite? Well, as abovementioned, he would have been 83 this year. I will only be 38. I’ll be 38.
Just a thought… just numbers… just playing… just pondering… while I still can.