Bad Things Happen

I've started reading the obituaries. I take a good look at them every morning with my second cup of coffee, after I say my prayers. It started some time this summer when I began to notice just how often someone dies young. "Young" is, of course, a relative term, but in general my eyes search for those who die before their 60th birthday. As Gerry battles his cancer our own thoughts turn, however seldom, to his life expectancy, and this summer, when I was feeling so scared and sad and isolated somehow it helped to know that we weren't very special at all.

Bad things happen all the time. And whether they happen to "good" people or not, those bad things leave a trail of grief in their wake. That's what I think about when I read the obituaries. There are all the premature deaths from cancer and sometimes heart disease. References to young children still at home, left without a parent at such a vulnerable age. And then there are the "died unexpectedly at home" obits which makes me think about a suicide, or perhaps a drug overdose. And then I wonder about all the sadness that came before, the darkness and depression and despair that goes with severe mental illness or with addiction.

Reading the obituaries doesn't depress me. In fact, it makes me feel connected by this web of mortality and human experience. It's a way to reflect prayerfully and deliberately on what it means to be a created being, and how Gerry and I are part of something that comes to all of us sooner or later. It makes me feel a little less lonely.

The new chemo regimen left Gerry feeling pretty puny. He had one drug administered at the infusion center, and then came home with another drug attached to a pump, which he wore continually for five days. The toxicity of these drugs is much higher, and the nausea and fatigue are more intense. And I just sort of came apart on Sunday, overwhelmed with stress and sadness.

So many people have expressed so much kindness and such a desire to help, that I wish I could find a way to put all that good will to work. But you know, there's just nothing to be done. Bad things happen. Being stressed and sad is simply part of this experience, and no amount of hugs, casseroles, therapy or pharmaceuticals can do much to change that. I am trying to stay balanced - doing all the right stress management things like sleeping enough, eating right, getting plenty of sleep. And Gerry and I can talk about it openly to each other, which helps, too. We know each other so well that one can tell when the other is hiding something, so we don't waste much energy trying to conceal things.

So - to everyone who wants to know what he or she can do to help - please keep praying. That's what I can feel as tangibly as any casserole or embrace. Bad things happen. God's grace abounds. I don't have much more to say than that.