We gathered for our 50 -year high school reunion last fall. There were 399 in our graduating class and that was a rather large class for our school, but then again, we are baby-boomers. Being born in 1953 and 1954 means we were part of a huge boom in population and smack dab in the middle of the pig in the python, so to speak. It also means we – the many baby-boomers – are now (supposedly) in retirement (ask me later how that’s working for me). Yes, the baby-boomers move inexorably toward old age and the class of ’72 is preparing to march on into their 70s. We’ve lost a few along the way; some to premature old age, many to dreaded diseases, some to accident, others to self-inflicted fatality. Fifty-nine were gone, but not forgotten, by the time we met to celebrate 50 years of adulting. Fifty years, 59 losses. Hmmm, at that rate the math indicates we lose an average of 1.18 classmates each year. It would be easy to extrapolate we’ve got a few hundred more years – unless one of those losses was a best friend – which it was. But that slow pace has changed markedly in 2023. One classmate per month. If this trend continues, we will lose twelve classmates in this year. When one loses a classmate every month it accelerates one’s concept of mortality and expediency. What are the things I want to do before I die? What remains on the bucket list? How long do I have? Well, if the trend continues at 12 per year, we have 28.33 years remaining before the last person from the class of 1972 dies at the ripe old age of 96. I’d be willing to prognosticate that one or two of our classmates may live to see a 100^th birthday. And for those who live long (may they prosper), they will witness the passing of hundreds of classmates, close friends, acquaintances, and family. Loss after loss, grief upon grief. The reality is current life expectancy in the United States is 78 years. Seventy-eight for the average of us. Prepare yourself friends; mind, soul and body; we are approaching warp speed. May the good memories sustain and encourage you even as you are bereft of close friends. May you live – and live well – until the day you die.