Life is Short, But it Should be Long Enough.

Please understand that what I’m about to write here is not a morbid thought.  

I derive NO sadness from this fact, nor do I look at its possible validity as a reason to lament in anyway.  I’m a “glass is half full kinda guy”, but based on my genetic history I have already gone through two thirds of the glass.

Here’s what I’m getting at:  I did a little bad math recently using ancestral information that I have on record, going back five generations to my great great grandparents.

On my Dad’s side of the family, his mother Helena lived for 74 years, while his father Pius lived for 73.

My great grandfather Angus Walker lived for 82 years, while his wife Theresa lived for only 60.

My Great Grandfather on my grandmothers side, James, lived for 57 years, while my Great Grandmother

Mary lived for 83 years.

My Great Great Grandfather Peter lived for 69 years, while his wife Mary lived for 91.

My Great Great Grandfather Donald lived for 81 years and his wife Christina lived for 75.

My Great Great Grandfather James lived for 94 years and his wife Ellen lived for 75.

And my other Great Great Grandfather Donald lived for 76 years while his wife Penelope lived for 66.

If you average all the ages here, taking into account that these were mostly farmers living on Prince Edward Island as far back at the early 1800’s, the average life expectancy for a Walker is 75 years.

Now, let’s take a look at my Italian roots.

On my Mom’s side, her father lived for 78 years while his first wife, my grandmother Lenora slipped on some ice and fell down the stairs in January of 1952 when my Mom was only 13 years old.  She was 40 years old.

My Great Grandfather Giovanni lived for 86 years, while my Great Grandmother, Emma, lived for 84 years.

We don’t know how old my Great Grandfather Louis was when he died, but his wife Leonilda lived for 75 years.

The only other lifespan I have on record is for my Great Grandfather Giovanni’s mother, Loreta…who lived to be 62 years old.

Taking my grandmother Lenora, who I never met, out of the equation, as she died so young and considering the 5 data points that I do have going back 5 generations of the Fraioli family, farmer children from families in Pontecorvo, Lazio Italy and immigrants to the New World in the early 1900’s : the unscientific average age of my Italian ancestors is 77 years.

So, taking into account the average of 75 years for the Walkers, and 77 years for the Fraiolis…based on my genetic history, and using really bad assumptions: I should live to be around 76 years old.

Which means…if any of this is to be believed: I have a mere 26 years of life left to live.

Life is short, but it should be long enough.  It doesn't matter if I have 26 years remaining, or only 6; LIFE is GOOD and I intend to live my life TO THE TOP.

Today is my 50^th birthday.  


I was born at exactly 7:48 PM Eastern Standard Time in the maternity ward of Milton Hospital on Reedsdale Road and Highland Street in the town of Milton, Massachusetts on January 19^th, 1962.

Turning 50 feels good, because it’s good to be alive.  The milestone reminds me to take a walk break in this race, and turn to look behind me to see how far I’ve come.  The past 50 years of life included great joy, terrible sadness, and the agony and ecstasy of blood, sweat and tears…but I wouldn’t trade any of it.

Regrets I have, many in fact: but those regrets are all part of a life well lived: a life, lived to it’s top.