We all — in the end — die in medias res. In the middle of a story. Of many stories. Mona Simpson.

Mona has touched on something to ponder. At the passing of almost everyone in our life's sphere, they died too soon. We apply a sort of seniority list. If a baby dies, we are all heart broken at what could have been. A teen, just starting an adult life. A young dad who leaves little children behind. A woman whose greatest wish in life was to live to see her first grandchild. The couple looking forward to their golden anniversary.

If we understand that no matter what age we are when we pass, we are in the middle of a Story - it seems a bit more tolerable. Some, we to get to read more Chapters than others but never are all tied up in a neat little package, ready for delivery. The final chapter is written, anytime.

A wonderful epilogue of her famous brother's life, Mona Simpson and Steve Jobs found each other, later in life but it would appear, they had plenty of opportunity to make up for lost time.

Steve Job's last words are sticking to me like white on rice, can't get them out of my mind. This complicated man's last words, have me on the edge of my seat.

Steve’s final words, hours earlier, were monosyllables, repeated three times.

Before embarking, he’d looked at his sister Patty, then for a long time at his children, then at his life’s partner, Laurene, and then over their shoulders past them.

Steve’s final words were: