I know that a death in the family causes one to confront their own mortality. Whilst I feel young the use of the word "one" in the previous sentence might point to something different. Looking through my eyes out into the world I don't relly feel any different to how I did 30 years ago. Sure a lot of water has gone under the bridge. I became a father with all the responsibilities that entailed. I got married and divorced. I shifted house a few times, changed career 6 times, and all the while my body aged and I didn't even notice.
Sometimes though, in the past few weeks, I've looked in the mirror and seen an older bloke looking back at me. The skin isn't as elastic as it was, the sock lines on my ankles at night seem to take a long time to disappear. I need glasses to read. My hair is thinning and turning white. So the trappings of age are appearing way too quickly.
In preparing the slide show for Mum's funeral I found photos of her and Dad with my oldest son Luke, their first grandchild, who is 26 as I write this. And I don't see old people in those photos. In fact when Luke was born in 1984 Dad was only three years older than I am now and yet he has already been gone six very quick years. And sometimes that face I see in the mirror is my Dad looking back at me, and when I look down at my hands which are starting to show the wrinkles of age, I stare at my father's hands.
I don't want this to sound melancholy because I know that it is way better than the alternative. But sometimes, when I start to think about it overmuch, it scares me that there is now less time ahead of me than what has gone before.