I am bereft...
There have been more deaths, near deaths and incidental lives in this last three weeks than I have been able to deal with.
The sadness in my heart is something I’m not used to. I don’t really know how to articulate the pain and “uselessness” that I feel when it comes to helping others, and when my own kin is involved, I can’t help but ask, “WTF???”
Knowing your deep pondering, Bob, I can’t help but ask, again, “WTF?”
It's math. That's all. You hate math? Here's another reason:
If you live a normal life-span, chances are half the people you meet, including young people, old people, fun people, and dour old sourpusses like me, will die before you do.
It's your fault for living so long. If you die at eleven, you may never experience the loss of a friend. Of course, I don't recommend that. It's not good for the species.
But the math is unassailable.
.
Not very comforting, is it? My suggestion, then, is everybody, starting right now, help make ours an even longer-lived species. Let's make the average life-span a hundred and fifty years, and that's just for starters!
Sixty is the new forty, right? So that means seventy-five is the new sixty!
.
Wait a minute.
Dang! I'll never be able to retire!