A cryptic message on Facebook this morning. It irritates me. I struggle with people who speak in code on their social media. Am I your friend or not? Clearly you have a special class of friends who have the decoder rings you’ve distributed.
And then I realize that "ground control to Major Tom - goodbye" is announcing the death of David Bowie, at 69, of cancer, and the spectre of my own death, lurking in the shadows of the evening of my life, rushes out.
Just like that, my generation has started passing away. There have, of course, been tragic, too-young-to-die deaths. We worry about that possibility for ourselves and the people we love, but we comfort ourselves with the idea that we haven't reached the age of the average lifespan of our species.
This is different. This is the approaching darkness itself. I am being moved to the front lines of a battle nobody survives.
There is much I want to do. Do I still have time to do it?