It is 2023. I was talking to my friend about our Junior year in high school recently - 40 summers ago. We still look back fondly on that year as "Global Summer". If you remember movies - War Games was out that summer. And we were addicted to the board game Risk, which we altered the rules and came up with our own version of Global Thermonuclear War.

But I digress.

What's got me thinking was a decade hence - that most miserable year of 1993. I still refer to that as "The Year Everybody Died".

In a six-week stretch that summer...My Grandfather, two beloved family friends, two uncles, including my favourite, and an aunt all went on to their reward. But somehow, still not the worst year of my life. 1987 still wins that one. 2020 a close second. And curiously, the year I got cancer and almost died - barely even registers now.

But as we all age, I still often stop and wonder. My mother has been gone from this earth for seven years this December. I have never properly mourned her; a fact that still troubles me deeply to this day. Papa TriSec is approaching 90, and is now finally starting to slow down. He's been insulin-dependent diabetic since 1957...so every year past 60 has been a blessing. Which was 1994 now.

The future holds the same end for all of us. Some sooner rather than later. And as I ponder what transpired 30 years ago...I am often reminded of that magnificent Jewish saying.

We all die twice. Once, when we physically die, and finally, the last time our name is spoken on this Earth.

So for us here - Stephen Noll is with us this evening.

Remember.