This afternoon I attended the wake of an old college friend.
Death isn’t precisely a stranger to me. My father died at a relatively young age more than 40 years ago. A priest who was a close friend but a number of years my senior died nearly 20 years ago. My beloved father-in-law died a dozen years ago. Some of my high school and college friends have died in accidents, of drug overdoses, and in war. I’ve had acquaintances who’ve taken their own lives and people I’ve known have died of AIDS.
I’ve had neighbors who’ve died of heart attacks and even some who’ve, basically, just died of old age.
But this is the first time I can recall someone who once upon a time was a close friend and who is my precise contemporary has died just because his body had had enough. Now I guess for the rest of my life just as at its beginning it will be the genes that tell. Perhaps one or another of us will stave off death through careful maintenance or just plain dumb luck but, mostly, it will be our genes.
A sobering thought.
Sorry for your loss.
My sister died a year ago. My younger sister. It’s a skin-crawling sort of feeling realizing that the reaper may be taking aim at you next.
My dad died when he was quite a bit younger than I am now. His father died at about that age, too. I went through much of my life assuming I’d have about that much time, too.
I’ve realized that I take after a different side of the family who are mostly alcoholic reprobates who’ve lived into their nineties.