There comes a time in everyone’s life when parents, aunts, uncles, and other members of the generation above us all begin to fail and die.  It usually comes round about our fifties or sixties, and suddenly when the last of that generation have gone we suddenly realise that we are now ‘the older generation’.

We have spent our middle years being the ‘filling’ in the sandwich between old parents and young children and teenagers, and now when the last elderly relative has died we all must shift upwards a level, like it or not.  Soon our children begin to look middle aged,  an increasing number of grandchildren wreck our homes at family get-togethers, and our sons and daughters will begin to plot behind our backs as to whose turn it is to have us over for Christmas.

With the recent death of my uncle, it occurs to me that there are only two people left in my family from the older generation; my mother (92) and another uncle (86).  My years as a sandwich filler are coming to an end, and soon I will be the ‘bread’ on the outer edge.  Scary, isn’t it?  It’s only when you get to your fifties that you realise how short life is.  We must make the most of life while we can!

 

 

 

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