An ever-growing realization of the finiteness of life can leave me feeling blue. I accept the fact I ought to be prepared to depart this existence at any moment, and the odds of that moment arriving increase with each and every birthday. Although this information is not breaking news, for some reason lately, I’m more acutely aware of the possibility. I suspect the heightened awareness of my mortality may have something to do with holiday memories of departed loved ones. A trail of trickling tears can be set off by sentiments in a book or news article, something someone says or does, thinking about my kids or grandkids or by…