Yesterday, I was talking with a friend of mine about planning for retirement and the fine balance between working and living life. He was saving based on the age at which his father (or possibly Grandfather) had died at, assuming that he would also die around this age; which was 63. He did not have very high hopes that he would live much past this age.
This conversation reminded me of a book that my friend Jennifer gave me when I was 18 or 19 years old called Motherless Daughters. The book was meant for women who had lost their mothers at a relatively young age. In this book it said that many women who approach the age at which their mother had died begin to feel morbid about life, and start thinking about their own mortality. Check.
My Mother died when she was 33 years and 3 months old, I was barely 14 years old. I am 31 years and 11 months old. So I have approximately 1 year and 4 months left to live by using these two schools of thought; although, my Mom died unexpectedly and very quickly from sepsis. I guess I better start having more fun, and worrying less about trivial things that don't matter in the grand scheme of things, I could be dead fairly quickly.
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