The horizon

My grandfather died on Thursday, at 92. He had survived my grandmother by less than a year, and he was the last of my grandparents to die. That is the definition of generational change.

Speaking with my uncle by telephone, I got a sense of what it felt like to be on the front line of life, so to speak. With both of his parents dead, he is, he said, "an orphan." Because he had been living with my grandfather and because he has struggled financially, my grandfather's death presents him with the possibility that he'll have no place to go. "I remember when I was a little boy in Sudbury," he said, referring to his childhood home in Massachusetts. "It was sunny and warm outside, and I had a sandwich, and I went to sit on the back porch. Nothing could ever go wrong. My mom and my dad were there to take care of me, and it was always going to be just like that..."

I lost my mother 13 years ago. I have only my father left. How will I stand up when I'm in my uncle's shoes?