When my dad, no longer Googie, was about my age, he kept emailing me who'd died. After awhile it seemed a bit morbid. Then I found out he'd been sending them to my sister too - who found it even more disturbing. Possibly because I'm a bloke, and it seems more a male thing - like the fascination with machines and devices that clearly imply obsessive tendencies. Anyhow it's not difficult to see the elderly male morbidly obsessing about the people who populated his life, dying. Thankfully you wouldn't get that in a demographic that as a matter of routine ride fast motorcycles! It'd be like shoving knitting needles down your plaster cast.
When I was young my gran would tell me about everyone that had died each time I visited her. I had no clue who any of them were. It’s an age thing I guess .
I knew my mum and dad's brothers and sisters, and their kids - and that's it! My mum's mum - the other three grandparents died before I was old enough to know them. And theres all these aunts and uncles I couldn't pick out of a lineup, yet even the sane members of my family would talk to me like I knew who the fuck they were! The ironic thing is the only members of the extended family I knew, turned out not to be related at all! It's probably not very gracious of me, but I cross my fingers they're all dead now. They sounded awful.
Family histories, good and bad. Most of my close relatives are dead. Life is short so move on to the future.
