Hector had always been fastidious. There was not an ounce of spontaneity in his genes (nor in his jeans for that matter). When he was approaching his sixtieth birthday he made a list of the names of his parents, grandparents, uncles, and aunts. Next to each name he wrote their exact age when they died.
Aunt Peggy, for example, died when she was sixty-one years and eleven days. Uncle Sylvester died aged seventy-two and ninety-six days. His maternal grandmother died aged eighty-three and two hundred and seventeen days. He would mark off each person when he passed their age. He would beat them all! He would draw a great big happy face next to each name the day he passed their death age! Ha! Ha! Ha! A happy face to celebrate!
Hector pinned his plan to the back of his kitchen door.
That was one hundred and twenty-four years ago. Not a single happy face was ever added to the list.