Three "Average" Men

Depending upon which statistical table you consult, the average life expectancy for white American males is somewhere between 75 and 76 years. Unfortunately during the past two weeks those statistics have been true for three fine men from our former hometown area.
The first was two weeks ago when Norvell Houck died. He was 75 in July. I did not know him very well, but from his obituary, one can tell he did a lot of good in his life. It said that one of his enjoyments was researching Adams County history. That is something we would have had in common.

Three days after Norvell's death, our former neighbor Bob Thomas died. He, his wife Carol and I all attended the same rural church when we were young and Carol and I went to the same country school. After living and working in Omaha while raising their family, Bob and Carol returned to the neighborhood and started farming Carol's grandparents' home place. We became neighbors again after our move back to the farm where I was raised.
Bob farmed Mom's ground the last few years before her death. He was so good to help Mom - putting hay out for her cows when she needed it done; clearing the driveway after a snow; helping her understand the new FSA programs and just being a genuinely good neighbor.
At his visitation I thought about the time he had almost died when he was a senior in high school. He and two friends had been hunting. Bob was accidentally shot in his left lung very close to his heart. He was in critical condition for several days after surgery but gradually began to recover. I know he was in the hospital with breathing problems several times in the last few years. I assumed it was related to his smoking but I wonder if that long ago gunshot might have contributed to his illness. Bob was also 75 in July.

Bob's funeral was last Thursday morning. That night my cousin Glen's daughter posted on Facebook that her Uncle Darrell had died. He was the husband of Glen's sister Lila. Darrell had just turned 76. His death was more unsettling for me because he was family. I grew up with Lila and her siblings. Naturally we weren't as close in our adult years as we once were, but those childhood feelings of affection and connection will always be there.
I can remember my parents saying things at funerals like "It's good to see you again. I'm just sorry it had to be under such sad circumstances." when they saw old friends or relatives they hadn't seen for a long time. Now I'm doing that. It is sad that I only see old friends and relatives at funerals - but at least I get to see them again.
So in addition to celebrating Darrell's life yesterday was also a bit of a family reunion for me. I learned who has gotten married, divorced, had kids, had grand-kids, moved, had back surgery, heart attacks, retired, still working, etc. And like every other time we have been together, someone will say, "We should all get together sometime under happier conditions; have a picnic or something." Everyone always agrees but it never happens. We won't see one another until the next funeral.

With the passing of each year more of my friends and relatives edge closer to being average. It is something I try not to dwell upon. But when there are three within two weeks, it kinda hits home.