Thanksgiving was lovely this year, a happy gathering of four generations of family. We are a warm and compatible group who genuinely enjoy each other’s company and — not to sound too corny here — acknowledge the blessing of just being together. There is a sturdiness to this side of my family that I treasure. It is stable and loving, and it feels as if it will go on forever.
Until I do the math. Then I realize that there are fewer descendants in my children’s generation than in mine. Experts say that the replacement rate in developing countries is 2.1; that is, to keep a population stable, each woman should have on average 2.1 children. Using this standard, that part of my extended family isn’t replicating itself.
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