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What amazes me most about old age is that I lived to see it, while so many of my schoolmates did not. At our 40th reunion, about 20 were gone- one killed in Vietnam; another, an engineer for Bechtel, died in his early 50s of a heart attack. At our 50th, almost a third of the class was gone; cancer or heart attack the usual causes. I remember my paternal grandmother, who lived to be 101, almost crying when she spoke about how every one of her friends from her past were gone. This woman buried a husband and lived another 40 years. She buried 3 adult sons; one killed in WWII, one to cancer, and the third to heart attack only a year prior to her passing. I'm seeing the same things she did, as more and more of the people I knew have passed on, leaving holes in the fabric of my life. I don't know if I really look forward to the day when I look around and see that there is no one left but me.