Last night, when I got home from work, D was shaky and visibly upset. I asked him what was wrong and he crumbled. I immediately panicked. Knowing my mother called my brother-in-law to have him tell my sister about my father’s cancer, I could only jump to conclusions. More bad news, I assumed.
As he started to cry, he told me a good friend’s husband died. I tried to console him, but as I hugged him, I slowly felt my lungs inflate, this was not horrible news of my dad’s condition. I felt guilty for feeling lightened by the news. There’s been a lot of death just outside our circle lately. My brother’s best friend’s brother, whom we grew up with, also died recently. It was thought to be a suicide, but after an autopsy this week, it was revealed he had an aneurism. He was 24.
I find myself saddened for those around me, but grateful it isn’t my turn to directly grieve yet. Even in saying this, I worry that I tempt the fates, I think of my mother’s superstition of death trifectas. I can only hope for the best, and pray.