Life isn’t fair is it? When I was small, a boy who lived in our neighborhood drowned behind the hosiery mill. I was old enough to know what ‘drowned’ meant, but I’m not sure I fully understood the impact of it all. Later, in the 4th grade, a friend named Tim Brantley died. He had leukemia or something, I don’t really remember, but it was very upsetting to lose a playmate. Then just before senior year, Lynn was killed. I didn’t really know him all that well, we moved in different circles, but we knew each other in passing… you know, you pass in the hall and say “Hi”… but his death was still shocking and sad, and made even more so by the way he died.
Where am I going with this? Yesterday my youngest daughter found out one of her closest friends has a tumor on her liver and the doctor said he’s pretty sure it’s malignant even though he hasn’t seen all the tests yet. She’s 15, a beautiful young lady with a dazzling smile and personality to match, who just happens to be an excellent basketball player with a killer jump shot. She’s spent countless sleepovers at my house, and you know how it is, you sort of adopt the kids who hang around, even though they’re not yours.
I can see the confusion in my daughter's face. Older people die, not young ones. Behind her sad eyes she’s looking for Daddy to make it better somehow and I can’t help but feel a little impotent. I’ve never had to deal with this as a parent before, even though I’ve been a parent for almost 35 years. So I tell her not to just expect the worst, that it’s far from over, that she should be there for her friend, be upbeat and strong, and wait and pray. Pray a lot. And when she wants to talk about it, I’ll listen, day or night. And when she wants a hug, I will give her that too because I know she will need it. So will I.
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