Terrible tragedies remind us of fragility of life

This is a horrible story, and I have to tell it in a way that preserves the anonymity of the subject.

You'll understand why.

I have a friend from back home in Virginia that I haven't seen for nearly 40 years. Around the time we lost touch, one of her three brothers died after a long illness.

I remember thinking how sad it was. I have four younger siblings, and losing any of them would be tragic to me.

Anyway, she and I lost touch. But as has happened with so many people in this age of social media, we established contact a few years ago through Facebook. We're both past 60 now, although I'm further past it than she is.

My four siblings -- ages 57 to 67 -- are alive and kicking, and her two remaining brothers were doing well too.

Until recently.


A month or so ago, one of her remaining brothers suffered a major head injury from a nasty fall.

He died a few days later.

She posted something about it on Facebook. I responded with sympathy and then essentially put it out of my mind. A couple of weeks later, she posted something about her brother dying in his sleep after suffering a heart attack.

I was confused. Hey, I'm old. I contacted her and asked if this was the same brother. No, she said. This was her remaining brother. She had lost two family members within three weeks.

"I'm devastated," she wrote.

It's easily understandable. As much as death of a loved one hurts, sudden unexpected death is more difficult because we have no time to prepare ourselves emotionally for the loss. Three years ago, I lost one of my best friends in the world when he suffered a brain aneurysm.

It was shocking, but he lingered for several weeks and at one point there was at least hope he might recover.

When my dad died 11 years ago, he had been very ill for several years. As sad as we were, he was 82 years old and no one was particularly surprised when it happened.

At least my friend still has her husband and other members of her family with him. Although after what she's been through, it wouldn't surprised me at all to see her sort of re-enact the scene from "Terms of Endearment" when Shirley MacLaine shakes her baby awake to make sure she's still breathing. I hope her husband understands.

I'm reminded of something I learned when I was 14 years old. In the main lobby of the United Nations building in New York, there was a pendulum donated by the Dutch. I don't know if it is still there, but I remember what it said.

"It is a privilege to live this day and tomorrow."

Yes, it is.