Cliff and I have a visitation to attend at a funeral home a hundred miles north of here. My cousin's husband, nicknamed "Fat", passed away a couple of days ago. When we went to my dad's family's reunions, Fat and my husband, Cliff, were the ones wearing overalls, sitting with their heads together, discussing tractors. One time we went camping on his farm and my grandson, Arick, fished in his well-stocked pond. He seemed to have a special bond with Arick, although his tendency to tease children unmercifully made my granddaughter, Amber, shy away from him. Fat whittled constantly, and made some really cute things that he passed around to family members.
The two of us were discussing this morning how we've buried grandparents at their time, and then our parents in their season. It's our generation's turn now to start "shuffling off this mortal coil". It somehow seems like the most natural thing in the world. But it also makes you enjoy life to the fullest, realizing how short a time you have left. Even with the aches and pains of older age upon us, each day is precious, and I, for one, am thankful for every one.