I share your reflections, EEE, and Reg. Building on what you guys offered, I've been giving thought of late to the "last times" that we inevitably experience on so many fronts, from the mundane, inconsequential ones to the most powerful and emotionally significant.

I don't recall the final time in my childhood that I played street hockey, or sledded down the neighborhood hill, or opened a new LP, or put one of those damn plastic 45 adapters on the singles that I used to buy.

Fast forward to fatherhood, and I wonder when I last lifted my daughter up from where she fell asleep on our bed and placed her in her's. When did she last see us as knowing more than we did? 

I don't recall the last conversation I had with my mother before dementia took hold. Nor do I remember the last time I viewed my dad as being pretty much indomitable... until pulmonary fibrosis hit. 

So many of these "last times" will remain unnoticed, and buried, and that's the way it should as you can't dwell too much on the day-to-day obligations of getting through the day...life is to be lived, right? But we should appreciate the moments that are most likely not as yet "last times" because the supply is dwindling, and the final bell will get rung. So many things creep up on us, like thieves. It's wise to remember that our clock is always ticking, so let's be alert! 

I've been playing DB's "Good Times" a lot of late, and that line, "life is short, death is long" hits me, but in an uplifting, clear-eyed way, and here's to pushing back against that "drive toward self destruction. "

Peter T.