@jcboy,
I sympathize, jcboy. My father died when I was 26, and my mother got alzheimer's right after that, living another ten years that were mostly miserable for her. There are conversations we three never had. Re my father, I knew him well and can easily imagine our conversations now. I'm 69 (snort!) and he'd be 105. We could, if we could, talk endlessly.
My mother: I have many of her traits as well as my father's, but my behavior for good or ill is similar to my father's. Besides that, he also batted left handed and had a negligible sense of smell. My mother was a rule maker born in 1901, so you can imagine her rules from today's point of view. I struggled with her and she with me (father born in 1906, but no similar struggles). I came into "my own" in the sixties, a rather well known decade. Her death was much a relief from pain for both of us, hugely more for her. It wasn't for several years that I could see past my own mind and understand her better, though I always had the sorrow. I was just growing up when she was losing it.
I knew from photos and stories parts of their pasts, pretty interesting. I started a photo thread on a2k about it once, and flagged in my efforts.
Gracie, the big surprise in all this is how incredibly fast life speeds by. At 69, despite what Contrex says (and I see his point, re your viewpoints to come), I am the same person I was, and I am sometimes 4, sometimes 15, then 21 (21!), then 28, and so on. My age encompasses my past and many times I agree with myself back then or argue with me then, now, now being supposedly wiser.
Keep your eyes open and your wits about you, eh? Enjoy the richness, the textures of your life. That sounds corny but I mean it.