Why not me? - a most unfortunate story

 

Why not me?"she asked peering through eyes heavy with age as she sat hunched over in a dilapidated wheel chair. Her fragile spine was twisted and curved like a tortise shell. Her clothes were old, worn and no longer fit anymore. Six months before she had buried her husband of many years. Six months is not enough time to grieve the death of someone you love. "I don't understand. Why couldn't it have been me?" Her soul could not grasp the question that burned upon her lips as she chanted it over and over.

She was not mourning the recent death of her husband. She was mourning the impending death and loss of her only son. Forty one years old and only five days ago he was taking care of her because she was not able to physically care for herself. He was all she had left in this world. He was all that mattered. Soon she would be swallowed up by the utter loneliness that awaited her. What a horrible fate for one of so many years. My heart felt like someone had dragged it across slithers of broken glass. I didn't know what to say. I waited for some kind of comforting answer to come, but it didn't. I took a deep breath feeling her overwhelming sorrow. I felt the pressure amplify in my throat as I held back my tears.
I look at him lying unresponsive in a bed much too small for him. Each labored breath he exhaled was laden with respiratory secretions that gurgled over his vocal cords and rattled deep within his throat. I wondered what his last conscious thoughts must have been. Had he worried about what would happen to her? Did he know about the cancer that was eating away at his throat and occluding his gut? He was not just "a patient" to me. None of them are. They are human beings with lives left to live and dreams not yet fulfilled. They have people who love them and who rarely are ready to say goodbye.
You could hear the pitch in her voice rising sharply as her syllables crackled with tears. I bent down and held her close. I could tell by her grasp that it was something she desperately needed as she broke down sobbing. "Why not me?" she kept asking. Isn't it funny how we always ask,"Why me?" until it's someone we love who suffers? Then would we gratefully take their place. If only the divine were into making deals or giving us the option of what is behind door number three. Unfortunately, it is not the order of things.
Why her son? Why this poor lady? Why good people? Why anyone? The best I can tell is that it doesn't matter how good you are or how bad you are. Life has no rules. You must deal with life on life's terms. Our bodies get old. We get sick, diseases feed off of us, accidents happen. People we love die. We are not necessarily rewarded for our good deeds by being allowed to escape our biology. It is the nature of the beast. I believe our spirituality is what helps us through troubled times; not what keeps us from them. I do not claim to have the answer. Hell, sometimes I feel like I don't even have a clue. The answer, I suppose, is irrelevant. What is relevant is that we live and love while we can before we must ask such questions. We must make our days count with those we love.