I often think about my grandmothers, both of whom I have lost but remember dearly. I also find myself wondering about my great-grandmothers. I’ve never met them and know little about their lives. And yet, by the time I was a four-month-old foetus in my mother’s womb, all the eggs I would ever carry were already formed. My cellular life would have started when my mother was in my grandmother’s womb, and although this was not a complete form of myself, it blows my mind to think that part of my life cycle started in my grandmother in this way.
This thread that runs between our elders, our bodies, ...
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