Will we live longer than our parents?

By Michael Patrick O’Brien–

It’s a common question. I heard my mother ask it and my older brother too. As I get older, I better understand why they asked it. I even now ask it myself (especially in light of the coronavirus)—will I live longer than my parents?

Of course, I cannot know the answer. Religion does not provide it. The Gospel of Matthew (25:13) says, “Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” More ominously, the Book of Revelation (3:3) warns, “I will come like a thief, and you will not know at what hour I will come upon you.” Thus, St. Paul advises (in 1 Thessalonians 5:6), “let us not sleep, as others do, but let us keep awake and be sober.” 

Science presents no better response to the question. The National Institutes of Health has indicated, “The duration of human life (longevity) is influenced by genetics, the environment, and lifestyle….25 percent of the variation in human life span is determined by genetics.” (Is longevity determined by genetics?) Yet, other studies suggest a much less significant link. (To what extent do our genes really dictate longevity?)

Empowered by such uncertainly, I dove into an exploration of this unanswerable question. My mother died when she was almost 77, which is a reasonably (if not extremely) long life. My father died, however, at age 61, a relatively young age and just two years older than me when I wrote these words. None of his brothers (see photo) lived to an older age than their father. 

There are footnotes to both of my parents’ departures. My father contracted hepatitis during the Viet Nam war. He eventually died, likely sooner than he should have, of a cancer that ravaged his weakened liver. My mother smoked cigarettes for 40 years. Her sister who did not smoke at all lived until age 88. Tobacco probably stole about a decade of my mother’s life.

Due to such variables, I must assume my situation will not be exactly like either of my parents, so what about somewhere in between? If I survive until the average of these two parental death ages, I will live until about 70 (again, assuming corona does not take its toll). 

That number looms just 11 years away, so I wondered if I might get a higher age by including my closest other relatives. This involves parental-side folks (father 61, uncle 69, uncle 57, aunt 78, aunt 83, aunt 73, aunt 84+ (still alive), grandfather 72, grandmother, 80). I also added in my closest maternals (mother 79, uncle 87, uncle 38, uncle 84, aunt 68, aunt 88, grandfather 80, and grandmother 47). 

This averaging exercise brought my possible life expectancy age up to abut 72. Adding in great grandparents, seven of my 25 extended relatives lived over age 80 (28%). None survived over age 90 (parents and grandparents going back 4 generations). Thus, based on all these factors, I probably will not die at age 61 (stay away COVID-19!), and I may live to about 72, but I also doubt I will live up to or past 90.

My genealogical research, which provided the detailed death age information listed above, also revealed a wide, interesting, and frightening array of causes of death for my ancestors. The list includes congestive heart failure, liver cancer/cirrhosis, pneumonias, arteriosclerosis (several times), hypertension, coronary thrombosis, preeclampsia convulsions (very sad—my great grandmother died at age 24 right after giving birth to my grandmother), gall bladder disease/inflammation, tuberculosis (again, very sad—25 year old great grandfather carrying the O’Brien name), metastatic breast cancer, lung cancer, Hodgkin’s disease, a hemorrhage after a fall, and a congenital heart defect.

Sadly, there are many situations where we do not live longer than, or even outlive, our parents. Sometimes it is because of disease (The Little Bird), and sometimes war (“Marry in Haste in War”─ My WWI Uncle’s Last Year). In every case, there is unspeakable pain (The Pieta and the curse of parenthood), including many years later (Riding Bikes with Robert and Edmond).    

Thus, I may have some idea of when I might die, and I may have some sense of what may cause my death. Both my mother and my brother asked if they would live longer than my parents. They did. I may too. Then again, I may get hit by a bus tomorrow. I have no idea.

So, have I just wasted your valuable reading time on a pointless exercise? I hope not. Life and death are, by their very nature, uncertain. Knowing this is a gift, a chance to make something else much more certain—that our family, friends, and neighbors know how much we love them.

*Mike O’Brien is a writer and attorney living in Salt Lake City, Utah. He is writing a book about growing up with the monks at the old Trappist monastery in Huntsville, Utah.