For some 250 people in Northern Ireland, Monday will be a very special day. They will have lived long enough to see the birth and centenary of a country.
orthern Ireland came into being on May 3, 1921, but unionist celebrations 100 years on will be muted. That's not through lack of pride in their country, but a product of pandemic prohibitions and gloom over the political state of play.
There is a school of thought that those centenarians might end up almost as long for this world as Northern Ireland.
Amid talk of a border poll and a united Ireland, LucidTalk's recent survey indicated a majority public perception that the country's shelf life was less than 25 years. Today's Kantar survey in this newspaper reports that more people think a united Ireland will happen in their lifetime than will not.
Unionism's largest party has marked the centenary by getting rid of its first woman leader and First Minister. A ruthless coup has been successfully executed, but there is little sign of an accompanying political strategy for the next few months, let alone another century.
The casual dismissal of unionist concerns evident in Boris Johnson's loathed Northern Ireland Protocol emphasised the vulnerability of the UK's stoutest stalwarts. Changing DUP leader will not get rid of the Protocol and the electorate might change the First Minister next year anyway.
Although not imminent, it looks a question of "when, not if" for a border poll. Nationalists can play it long.
Even if they lose the first referendum, they can win the next, assuming one is held every seven years, as is permissible under the Good Friday Agreement.
Unionists are confronted by a strategic dilemma. Ignore the debate over what a united Ireland might look like in the hope it will go away (it won't), or participate in discussions and potentially further legitimise the idea.
For worried unionists, taking part in talks about Irish unity could form a surrender-by-instalments process.
It's even harder to imagine Edwin Poots (or any other DUP leader and First Minister) taking part in discussions about Irish unity than it was Arlene Foster. And that was impossible. But conversations beyond unionism might grow. Should unionists participate? Republican participation in Northern Ireland does not mean they desire its survival any more than they have over the last 100 years. By the same logic, unionist dialogue about a united Ireland will not constitute acceptance.
Unionist engagement in talks about a hypothetical might constitute sensible contingency planning.
The onus would be on nationalists and republicans to think about how British identity would be recognised, whether the northern Assembly should be retained, what powers could be devolved or shared between Dublin and Belfast and the extent of powers given to local councils.
The year 1921 felt like a bitter reverse for northern nationalists, one handled insensitively for decades. There is no point in pretending that a united Ireland would feel anything other than a defeat for many unionists, but constitutional upheaval could be handled far better than it was a century ago.
The Irishness of the minority population never went away and is more extensive now. It is, therefore, entirely unrealistic to expect any early dissolution of British identity if a united Ireland came about. It might even harden.
Unionists have sometimes been looked upon (slightly patronisingly) as more British than the British on this side of the water. Pulling the plug on British sovereignty would not immediately alter that.
None of the above is to suggest the game is up for unionists. Northern Ireland has a capacity to endure. Successive surveys by Liverpool, Queen's and Ulster universities suggest support for a united Ireland is still well short and needs to win over swathes of "don't knows".
The Kantar survey puts support for a united Ireland at only 35%, with unity backers needing to win over the vast bulk of the 21% who said 'don't know'.
Northern Ireland will always be contested, but it is an immeasurably better place than it was for much of its century.
Concentrating on its continuing divisions risks overlooking the thawing that has taken place: power-sharing; nationalist support for the police; rapprochement between republicans and royals; a unionist First Minister cheered at a GAA game; a Sinn Fein minister attending a Northern Ireland soccer match. Even those monuments to mistrust, the peace walls, are more porous, although that is damning with faint praise.
After a century containing far too much trauma, unionists and nationalists ought to be relaxed about the centenary this Bank Holiday weekend, notwithstanding the uncertainty over their futures.
The beauty of the Good Friday Agreement is that consent for change is needed. That the mechanism for the maintenance or dissolution of partition is agreed is quite something, given the preceding bitterness.
And beyond the political angst, there are people who can be celebrated and acclaimed across any divide. Four golfing Major champions, plus George Best, Joey Dunlop, Carl Frampton, Harry Gregg, Barry McGuigan, Mary Peters, Alex Higgins, AP McCoy, Jonathan Rea, Dennis Taylor and Norman Whiteside for starters. Not bad from a population of 1.8 million.
It is an imperfect 100th birthday party when only half of those invited show up. Champagne receptions in Poleglass? Late night revelry in Andersonstown? Maybe not.
In some ways, it is a relief that Covid restrictions will mask the stark differences in celebrations that otherwise might have been evident.
Unionists can enjoy the 100-year celebration of their country. Those 250 centenarians - assuming they are unionists - should be at the forefront.
Yet it seems doubtful that today's new-borns will have a 2121 Northern Ireland bicentennial celebration - and that has little to do with their own life expectancy.
Jon Tonge is Professor of Politics at the University of Liverpool