If Earl were here, he’d remind me that a month from today is Christmas. But he’s not. He’s in Chicago attending a funeral. The forty-four-year-old son of close friends died unexpectedly a week ago today.
In the usual scheme of things, parents are not meant to bury their children. Siblings are not meant to face old age with one missing. When this happen, the world seems skewed; and I can’t think of any other situation that’s sadder.
It offers a certain perspective regarding my current breast cancer situation. Yes, it was unexpected, but I’m still here. And regardless of what’s ahead, at least we have more time together.
My own sons belong to the same decade of life as the man who died. If it had been one of them, my heart would be screaming, “Not fair; not fair. Take me instead.”
Under such sad circumstances, I would have willingly traded places.
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