Uber-fans, like me, of the 1979 classic All That Jazz will recognize those lyrics from a film that chronicles one man’s journey toward his demise. The movie is chockful of spectacular performances and never fails to fill my eyes with tears.

Yesterday, less than a month after my own mother passed away, I attended the funeral of a beloved uncle. Sitting there, during what seemed an interminable though well-intended sermon, it occurred to me that I’ve reached that stage in life where one by one, my elders and eventually my familial peers will eventually meet the same fate. As will I…

There will be more funerals, the gaps between each one and the next more slender; they will not occur as infrequently as they did even ten years ago. My mother’s remaining six sisters’ and their spouses’ bodies are in decline, some more evident than others. My husband’s family, even larger, tells the same story.

We will be attired in black, yet again, many times in the coming days, weeks, months and years. None of us know the when only that the if will never fit inside the equation. Never has.

Angelique, the Angel of Death, who troubles and endears Joe Gideon in the film, is beautiful and charismatic. Joe both adores and fears her. Not yet, he tells her at one point, and she demurs, backs away, allows him to live a bit longer.

May we all live – well and truly! – just a bit longer though one day, this same inevitability will arrive for each of us.