It Never Rains

...but it pours.

I don't generally mind getting older.  With each passing year I feel a bit older, but I usually learn a bit more and have a bit more to show for myself.  One of the things I hate about growing older, though, is that everybody else does, too.  Not only do I miss those years with my son when he was small and snuggly and would curl up with me to watch Rollie Pollie Ollie or Bear in the Big Blue House, but I'm also seeing the generation ahead of me grow older.  People who I don't think of as old, are getting....well, old.  Health problems are becoming more common, there is less mobility, less energy....worst of all, there is more death.  I know that death is a part of life....it's the final hurdle that we will all face.  It looms ever closer at hand, a quiet shadow that whispers it's greeting.  Sometime we know it's coming, sometimes it sneaks up upon us; sometimes it's somebody we don't want to face this world without, sometimes it's somebody we barely know and we can wax philosophical about it.  Always, death is with us.
"Suppose death had a heart to love and to release you, to whom would he turn this passion, would you chose a person from the crowd there. A person to suffer as you suffer." Santiago, Interview with a Vampire, Anne Rice.