The older I get, the one thing I learned as a child is constantly playing through my head… 

“There’s only one guarantee in this life, and that is death.”

Sometimes I feel like we’re all playing a giant game of musical chairs, in the background we can all hear, “pop goes the weasel,” play on repeat. Suddenly, the music stops, and we clamber for a chair to sit in. But some aren’t so lucky. Some don’t make it in time to get to a chair. And consequently, we lose those some to the cold kiss of death. I begin to cry, and the music starts again and we are forced to our feet and continue marching around in a circle. However, the circle just keeps getting smaller and smaller, until we are the one without any seat…