The sixty-year-old asks: When do I stop doing the things that have always defined me? Why do I feel ignored by a large part of the younger population? Why am I curious about who is listed in the obituary column of the papers, how they died, and what kinds of lives they lived? The sixty-something wonders what is yet to be accomplished, and do I have enough time to do all the things I’ve dreamed about in the past? He or she may not want to admit it, but the question hovers, who will be around me when I die? And, if married, which one of us will go first, and what is it like to say good-bye to
...more
