A birthday feels special, a reminder of the day we entered this strange world. Before that, our parents were born too one day, just like our grandparents and so on. Life is passed, generation after generation now already for millions of years and even more. It feels a lot like a relay race, a game where we pass on the stick, this thing called life. That something nobody really understands, yet to which we hold on so dear. When looked at it that way, birth and death become a little different, and every year feels a little like we’re born again. In the end, do we really die? In one way or the other, life continues from one generation to the other and never ends.