I am at the hospital with my mother and sister and I happen to notice the transgender woman close to us checking in.
She says her name is Miranda and she sports a Latina accent which perfectly matches the name. A pink purse nestles next to her on the counter coordinating with the track pants and white sneakers.
By my estimation she is under 40 and makes no attempt at voice correction. It's not an issue for her or perhaps she tried and failed.
It doesn't matter anyway because no one cares; not the admitting clerk or those around who may have noticed that she was transgender.
It's just a normal part of life plus at the hospital emergency, people have bigger concerns like the young woman not far from us crying in pain.
It is a massive dose of perspective.
As my mother pushes 91, we all agree it's time for a small apartment and this latest fall of hers confirms it for all of us.
Yet even more perspective.
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