I have to go to a funeral mass for a co-worker’s wife.

He is a consummate professional, the quintessential gentleman whose dress, grooming, and demeanor are always impeccable. She was a Lady of the first water, a woman of style and grace, and exuberant friendliness.

When I was younger I saw people refer to my recently deceased elders as ‘So young” and wag their heads. It made no sense to me, they weren’t young, they were old! At least, they were a damned sight older than me!!

The lady in question is not much older than me. More and more, I attend funerals of people my age or even younger than I.

I suppose under other circumstances I would be pleased to still be around. Small comfort, though, is the loss of someone decent while the worthless abound.