My father died in the 60s, age 53.
My stepfather died in 1987, aged 74, renal failure.
My mother died in 1991, age 79, cancer.
My sister died two years ago, age 76, complications from CLL.
My brother died three days ago, age 79, probably renal failure from diabetes complications and infections after having both legs amputated.
I’m the lone remaining member of my immediate family at this level (I have kids and grandkids). Seems we have a difficult time getting out of our 70s. Since I’m 68, that doesn’t bode well for me, perhaps. I know I shouldn’t dwell on it, since I don’t yet have any sort of terminal illness, and the problems I DO have are under control. And after all, my grandmother lived to 92 and her father to 93.
Still and all, I can’t help feeling a bit more. . .mortal. . .today.
Yeah, I’m feeling mortal, too. My father died at 70, my mother died at 69. I had a grandmother who only lived to 56. I’m 58 now, but I can be optimistic that I’ll live as long as my grandfather, who died at 78.
That’s exactly what I was going to say. There’s plenty of sibling rivalry in my family, and the only way one of us will win is if we outlive the others.
My mom outlived her whole family, she was 93 when she dies , she had 8 kids in her family and a few didn’t live pass 45 . Mom surprised very one by living so long.
You could out live your family too. I know I don’t want to live as long as my mom.
Thanks. We’ve been estranged for the past couple of years for reasons I won’t get into, but he was my childhood hero and a father figure, and we were on at least friendly terms for most of his life. He was intelligent, able to fix almost anything, and extremely funny, and I’m sad that he’s gone.
Sorry to hear about your loss. I became the last man standing when my father died in 1999. (Sort of. I suppose my mother could be out there somewhere. She’d be 82.) He was 69. But in my ancestry on both sides, they run the whole gamut from 60s to 80s. (And my father’s oldest brother is still alive and doing well at 95.)
A relative of Jack “Dr. Death” Kevorkian once said his obsession with death was due to the fact that no one in his family had ever made it past their 60s, and he was worried. But then Dr. Death ended up living to 83. So you just never know. Eat sensibly, drink moderately and follow your doctor’s advice the best you can is about all you can do.
Both parents died in 1989 of lung cancer (yes, I did quit - in 1992, after 23 years of smoking). They were 73/74.
Oldest grandparent made it (with extreme difficultly) to 83.
They had 4 kids - we’re in a race. Brother (b 1945) scored an early win with his wife’s death.
So far, he and my ‘kid’ (b 1953) sister are the only ones not diagnosed with permanent, incurable disease.
As is often said: ‘It’s MUCH easier to be the one dying than the one surviving’.
I have been the source for some time now. I’ve done extensive genealogy research on the family and have archived a lot of photos and histories.
As for personal maintenance, I quit smoking over 30 years ago, and quit drinking heavily 20 years ago. Since June 1 of this year I’ve lost 30 pounds through diet and exercise; blood pressure, cholesterol and blood sugar are in normal ranges. I have a couple of very tiny brain aneurysms that are monitored on an annual basis. Barring a catastrophic illness, I have a good chance of living longer than any of them did.
I appreciate the support here, and I’m pretty sure that after a week of churning it all around in my head, I’ll be moving on from it. The last couple of years have just been a bitch, ya know?
You’re the oldest left in your family? Well, that makes you the godfather. Now you can have irritable members of your family rubbed out.
You can kiss babies, and kiss grown family members on their cheek.
Btw, you’re 68 and just now you are feeling mortal? It’s about time!
“Godfather” smacks of religion; if there’s to be any religion-smacking going on, I’ll do it with a club. I prefer the term “patriarch”. It has a certain dignity that is in no way in keeping with my actual dignityness.
I don’t touch babies; you never know where they’ve been.
