With Great Sorrow
When I came home from learning the good news about my clear CT scans on Tuesday, there was an email waiting in my inbox bearing the horrible news that a magnificent woman I worked with for several years in dog rescue had suffered a brain aneurysm while driving. It said her doctors didn't expect her to regain consciousness. This morning I received another email announcing that her family has carried out the decision to remove her from life support, and she isn't expected to survive long at all. I haven't heard more.
Earlier this week I had been following reports over at the Well-Dressed Recluse about a close friend of Genni's, a young mother who had just been diagnosed with stage IV breast cancer and was uninsured. My heart immediately went out to her, and I wanted nothing more than to somehow become her guardian angel. But today I read in the news that this same amazing talented beautiful creative woman, along with her husband and five-year-old daughter, is dead. I'm reeling with shock. And oh, Genni Genni Genni, I am so so sorry.
These two devastating tragedies have shaken me to the core. I've been weeping for these women, this man, this little girl and the people who love them all night. And coming right on the heels of my own good news, I'm struggling mightily with the gut-wrenching knowledge that there is absolutely no good reason on earth that I deserved to live and they didn't. This is a very hard thing, and I just can't come to terms with the unfairness of reality right now.
But most of all, I'm feeling so frightened that my precious grandchild is going to be born into such a sad, terrifying, pain-filled, and brutally capricious life. I want to cry out, Please, please, please, Universe, protect this tiny new person!
But obviously the Universe does not concern Itself with protecting good beautiful innocent people.
Earlier this week I had been following reports over at the Well-Dressed Recluse about a close friend of Genni's, a young mother who had just been diagnosed with stage IV breast cancer and was uninsured. My heart immediately went out to her, and I wanted nothing more than to somehow become her guardian angel. But today I read in the news that this same amazing talented beautiful creative woman, along with her husband and five-year-old daughter, is dead. I'm reeling with shock. And oh, Genni Genni Genni, I am so so sorry.
These two devastating tragedies have shaken me to the core. I've been weeping for these women, this man, this little girl and the people who love them all night. And coming right on the heels of my own good news, I'm struggling mightily with the gut-wrenching knowledge that there is absolutely no good reason on earth that I deserved to live and they didn't. This is a very hard thing, and I just can't come to terms with the unfairness of reality right now.
But most of all, I'm feeling so frightened that my precious grandchild is going to be born into such a sad, terrifying, pain-filled, and brutally capricious life. I want to cry out, Please, please, please, Universe, protect this tiny new person!
But obviously the Universe does not concern Itself with protecting good beautiful innocent people.
posted by Lymphopo at Friday, September 07, 2007
12 Comments:
Oh my, Liz, I am so sorry to read about this terrible news. What an incredibly sad story.
I'm so sorry.
Whenever... graah, life isn't fair. And I take a Terry Pratchett sort of comfort from that-- I did not earn my troubles. I have not done anything that is punishable by loneliness, lab work not working, or too-hot days. While I suffer some misfortune, it's not karmic smackdown.
Sometimes it's enough.
Even when it is, I'm so sorry.
May all beings everywhere plagued
with sufferings of body and mind
quickly be freed from their illnesses.
May those frightened cease to be afraid,
and may those bound be free.
May the powerless find power,
and may people think of befriending
one another.
May those who find themselves in trackless,
fearful wilderness—
the children, the aged, the unprotected—
be guarded by beneficent celestials,
and may they swiftly attain Buddhahood.
- The Buddha
Some days, it's just sadness after sadness. You're in my thoughts.
My husband once said that if there is no God, then it's even more important that we take care of one another. I like that.
Thank you so much for your kindness, Liz. I'm in shock, of course, horrified, and trying to adjust to a burden that I will carry with me forever.
For the bad, though, there is good. It's pretty raw right now, but I can say that I know that I was truly ready to do *anything* I could for Luray, John and Ruby, and they knew that. I can't begin to comprehend this awful thing they did, but I also know that they weren't awful people. They couldn't see their way out, and they didn't have the strength to face saying good-bye.
YOU are a good thing in a world of bad things. I am, too. So are your readers, John and Luray's families and friends who would have done anything, had only they asked. It's there, and we can make more of it.
I feel badly for all the people who have been burdened by John and Luray's decision; they had no idea what they were doing to us, but I know I'll never be the same.
Oh Genni. I just don't even know what to say. Please let me know if there's ever anything I can do for YOU.
((liz))
I cannot tell you how many times since becoming a mother that this kind of scenario has weighed upon my consciousness. What if something were to happen to me and my daughter and husband were left on this earth without me? Or if something were to happen to my husband, for us to continue living without him... or God forbid, something were to happen to my daughter and we had to continue on without her... Unbelievable the amount of pain in all of those situations. Yet, I cannot see how I would ever want my loved ones to die with me. Attachment is such a powerful glue, yet there IS such beauty on this earth worth being around to appreciate as an individual human being. I feel the worst for little Ruby, who didn't even have the chance to finish out the life she had left. But in all cases, the situation is beyond comprehension for the pain in everyone's life around that family. My heart totally aches for all of them.
it's weird, but i totally understand what they did. and it leaves a huge, massive, aching loss for those left behind.
so sorry.
I sometimes lookinto this world of sorrow and thank my lucky stars for the beauty in my life. After all that we have gone through in this last year with cancer, terrible treatments, immobility for me and no weightlifting for you to come out the other side intact and funny is amazing. I got to sail with dolphins last weekend and I thought about the possibility of missing that. To me life is worth living and not jsut living, but enjoying the heck out of. I am so sorry for these terrible things, but you are amazing. Be strong.
No, the universe does not protect the good, beautiful, and innocent. That is our job, painful, fitful and studded with failure though it is. The whole story sickens, starting with the mis-diagnosis, the lack of insurance, and finally, the act of sickening (but wierdly understandable) surrender and anger--I'm certain it was the father's idea, no woman would allow her child to go with her into the unknown like that. I just visited my sisters in New York. They are what you might call Yuppies, though wonderful people. They work incredibly hard.
My feeling: yuppies need to relax a little,
and bohemians NEED FUCKING HEALTH INSURANCE. Sorry, sadness makes me angry.
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