A few years ago my sister died, aged only 60. Then, a couple of years later, her husband died, aged 61. Now, my brother’s ex-wife has died, aged in her 50s.
In contradistinction, it seems as though my mother is going to live forever, much to her own disgust. Every single time I see her, she tells me she wishes she were dead. Although she has dementia, she has told me this often enough, consistently enough, and over a long enough time, that I’m sure she does really mean it.
Recently, however, she defied both my predictions and her own desires, and she became a nonagenarian.
[Receiving a congratulatory phone call from Scotland]
[Cutting the cake]
It isn’t ‘fair’, but why should we have any expectation that fairness would prevail?