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chaosvizier asked me to write about the best trip I've ever taken as part of the "Give Me A Topic" meme.
Unfortunately, I was awakened before dawn by a phone call from my mom, letting me know that my Grandma June passed away this morning after a long decline. Grandma was 95 & had been in hospice care for several weeks, so this was hardly a surprise. In fact, as soon as I heard the phone ringing in the early morning darkness, I knew what the call was announcing.
Death is a journey of sorts, but not one I've taken yet. Grandma's passing has had me thinking more of the journey that genes take through time. She was my last surviving grandparent, & the refrain my mind has been stuck on all day is, "Your parents are next." When my dad's stepmother Delda died many years ago, I remember him saying to one of his siblings at the funeral: "Hey look, we're in the front pew now." Which I think was him expressing the same thought. There is now only one generation between me & the front pew. And of that generation, I have already lost one aunt & one uncle. The Reaper continues to bring in his harvest.
But my Grandma June has many descendants. If I recall my genetics class correctly, you share half of your genes with each child, then one-quarter with each grandchild, one-eighth with a great-child, & one-sixteenth with a great-great-grandchild. Grandma June has four living children, 10 grandchildren, 11 great-grandchildren, & three great-great-grandchildren (with a fourth due any day now). So ... (4 * 0.5) + (10 * 0.25) + (11 x 0.125) + (3 x 0.0625) = 6.0625 copies of Grandma's genome are still living in the world. Her genes continue to travel through time.
And - because grief at someone's passing is usually at least somewhat comprised of fear of one's own death - I also considered how my own genes are moving through time. I don't have any kids, & I'm not likely to ever have any. I'm also pretty sure I won't have any nieces/nephews. But that really hasn't slowed down my genes. I have one full sibling (one-half genetic similarity), four living aunts/uncles by blood (one-quarter), eight full first cousins (one-eighth), two half first cousins (one-sixteenth), 10 full first cousins once removed (one-sixteenth), four half first cousins once removed (one-thirty-second), and three full first cousins twice removed (one-thirty-second). That's ... (1 x 0.5) + (4 x 0.25) + (8 x 0.125) + (2 x 0.0625) + (10 x 0.0625) + (4 x 0.03125) + (3 x 0.03125) = 3.47 copies of my genome, other than my own full copy, living in the world. And that's only going with the descendants from my grandparents - if you reach out to second cousins descended from great-aunts & -uncles, or go back further to third cousins, etc. ... it's infinite. My genes aren't going to die. In some genetic sense, Grandma June didn't die. I'm not going to die. We are all immortal.
And oddly, I find that somewhat comforting. In concrete, real-world terms, we all die - it's part & parcel with being born. But while we are alive, journeying through our life, we are accompanied by a great crowd of family & friends. We share bonds of blood with many, many people, & we share bonds of experience with many more. It's a path that is completely impossible to map out ahead of time. And no one follows the same route as anyone else.
What an adventure.
chaosvizier asked me to write about the best trip I've ever taken as part of the "Give Me A Topic" meme.Unfortunately, I was awakened before dawn by a phone call from my mom, letting me know that my Grandma June passed away this morning after a long decline. Grandma was 95 & had been in hospice care for several weeks, so this was hardly a surprise. In fact, as soon as I heard the phone ringing in the early morning darkness, I knew what the call was announcing.
Death is a journey of sorts, but not one I've taken yet. Grandma's passing has had me thinking more of the journey that genes take through time. She was my last surviving grandparent, & the refrain my mind has been stuck on all day is, "Your parents are next." When my dad's stepmother Delda died many years ago, I remember him saying to one of his siblings at the funeral: "Hey look, we're in the front pew now." Which I think was him expressing the same thought. There is now only one generation between me & the front pew. And of that generation, I have already lost one aunt & one uncle. The Reaper continues to bring in his harvest.
But my Grandma June has many descendants. If I recall my genetics class correctly, you share half of your genes with each child, then one-quarter with each grandchild, one-eighth with a great-child, & one-sixteenth with a great-great-grandchild. Grandma June has four living children, 10 grandchildren, 11 great-grandchildren, & three great-great-grandchildren (with a fourth due any day now). So ... (4 * 0.5) + (10 * 0.25) + (11 x 0.125) + (3 x 0.0625) = 6.0625 copies of Grandma's genome are still living in the world. Her genes continue to travel through time.
And - because grief at someone's passing is usually at least somewhat comprised of fear of one's own death - I also considered how my own genes are moving through time. I don't have any kids, & I'm not likely to ever have any. I'm also pretty sure I won't have any nieces/nephews. But that really hasn't slowed down my genes. I have one full sibling (one-half genetic similarity), four living aunts/uncles by blood (one-quarter), eight full first cousins (one-eighth), two half first cousins (one-sixteenth), 10 full first cousins once removed (one-sixteenth), four half first cousins once removed (one-thirty-second), and three full first cousins twice removed (one-thirty-second). That's ... (1 x 0.5) + (4 x 0.25) + (8 x 0.125) + (2 x 0.0625) + (10 x 0.0625) + (4 x 0.03125) + (3 x 0.03125) = 3.47 copies of my genome, other than my own full copy, living in the world. And that's only going with the descendants from my grandparents - if you reach out to second cousins descended from great-aunts & -uncles, or go back further to third cousins, etc. ... it's infinite. My genes aren't going to die. In some genetic sense, Grandma June didn't die. I'm not going to die. We are all immortal.
And oddly, I find that somewhat comforting. In concrete, real-world terms, we all die - it's part & parcel with being born. But while we are alive, journeying through our life, we are accompanied by a great crowd of family & friends. We share bonds of blood with many, many people, & we share bonds of experience with many more. It's a path that is completely impossible to map out ahead of time. And no one follows the same route as anyone else.
What an adventure.
