I've noticed, Maggie. It gives one pause.   

Some of us are old, and most of us are not spring chickens. We are confronted with the mortality of our corporeal presence, on the one hand, and blessed with the reminder of how we are immortal, though perhaps forgotten as individuals in a generation or two.   As we recognize how others live on in our memories and in their individual and cultural influences, and the music of common folk is preserved and evolves, and always valued in some manner or another, so we understand that even as we pass out of memory of the generations that follow, our influence, for good or ill, will continue.