Dateline Boston — The older you get, the more you experience death, and that really stinks. I was exposed to death at a relatively early age. My mom died the month before I turned 22. If you can avoid having your mother being the first person in your life who dies, please do. Every death after that wasn’t as bad, because to me, nothing is as bad as losing your mom.
Death in my life was spread out from that point on. I lost both of my grandmothers. Then, about 10 years ago, the Grim Reaper began making regular visits. My dad. My father-in-law. My mother-in-law. My aunt.
This year, six of my friends lost a parent. Six. And then the celebrities started passing, celebrities I liked. A lot. Prince, the man I worshiped from the age of 16. David Bowie, introduced to me by my stepmother. Gene Wilder, who made me laugh all through my childhood. Morley Safer, who I watched every week on 60 Minutes. Florence Henderson, a mother so unlike a real mother I was fascinated. Muhammad Ali, whose charisma made me smile. George Michael, who I listened to in high school and saw in concert just a few years ago, which made me a huge fan of his. Carrie Fisher, who was more than Princess Leia, but embraced her character to the end. And just one day later, her mother, Debbie Reynolds, who probably died of a broken heart.
Death really sucks, but I thank God for memories.
Ms. Vaillancourt may be contacted at snobbyblog@gmail.com
