Not sure what I am defined as - not a snowflake certainly, but it appears that, born in 1945, I am a year too old to be a boomer. I take the point of the Guardian article and am probably likely to recall what I can of my teen years when everything was so dramatic when I hear youngsters agonising over their lives. But 'm not sure that today's young will all survive their traumatic existences to reach the serious and real traumas of adult life. There are so many more pressures than I was under during those years - we only had to worry about nuclear annihillation while sitting under a table with white painted windows (all achieved in 4 minutes). We, of course, didn't have social media to contend with.
I had my Welsh visitor this morning (she enjoyed her brownie) and we were discussing cancer and she was wondering why both she and her late husband had had cancer (hers removed surgically, his not diagnosed, despite frequent visits to a doctor who didn't find anything wrong until he was only a few weeks away from the end). She understands why he died and she didn't but she doesn't understand why she is the only sibling who developed cancer or why other people don't seem to develop it despite her belief that everyone over 70 is bound to have some form of cancer, active or otherwise. Why, for example, were the cancers that I have had so minor and hers so serious? My only answer - just good luck.
My brother has the same good luck, but he has had other serious health problems. Is he lucky? Am I? Maybe we just have cancer resistant genes. We both have minor carcinomas on our faces but they very rarely come to anything, although apparently they could. Some of mine did - unfortunately one right on the end of my nose so very apparent but more a vanity thing than concerning. Another minor one on my hand and another under my eye - none really serious and promptly dealt with. The bowel ones were a bit further on when discovered, but still eminently treatable. Just lucky, because I don't see why any supreme being should single me out for special care, more than my friend. Am I being heartless when I say that I don't feel guilty for my good fortune?