I saw a post on Facebook the other day that literally flabbergasted me.
The post — by someone I don’t know all that well — was someone saying that in the last eight or nine years, he has had 97 different relatives, friends and business associates die. He was actually more specific than that. He said this had happened since May 2013.
I had two quick reactions to the statement.
First was that I’m not sure I even know 97 people.
Second was that this gave whole new meaning to the phrase “making a list, checking it twice.”
I certainly don’t want to make light of this, and it’s important to have some perspective in terms of age. If this person is 19, that many deaths within his personal circle would be shocking. If he’s 91, it’s not as much of a surprise.
I believe he is closer to 91 than to 19.
Even so, 97 is an amazing number for people who aren’t in the military or law enforcement or the medical profession.
If I try to come up with a number of dead friends, relatives and business associates who have died since 2013, the number that comes to mind is 7 — my 93-year-old mother, my Aunt Phyllis, my fraternity brother Brandt, my brother in law Marty and my lifelong friend Tom are the four that matter the most, My daughter’s first mother-in-law and a former boss from 30 years ago are the other two.
Seven people.
And three of them didn’t come to mind right away.
Either I’m living the life of a Unabomber-type hermit, or Mr. 97 is somehow cursed.
I don’t think I could come up with 97 people who matter to me who have died in this century. There’s an old saying that if you live long enough, you will lose everyone you ever love.
If I knew this person better I would probably ask him how he knows it’s 97.
Somewhere there has got to be a list with 97 names on it.