I’ve never dealt with the death of a loved one. Not really.
There have been a few aunts and uncles who passed away, but I was much younger at the time. It was always a sad thing, especially watching the way it affected my parents. But I’ve never felt that weight of realization that I won’t be able to see, touch or talk to this person for the rest of my earthly life. I’ve never suffered such a loss.
But, of course, I know that death is inevitable. And this terrifies me.
The other day, I had a thought. It was only for a short moment, but it was a clear idea that came and went through my brain. I was thinking that my life is so good, and my marriage is so fun. And I love that Drew and I get to live close to our families, and see them often.
I was thinking about the promotion I applied for, and how I had felt really good about the interviews. And how excited I am to buy a house and fix it up and plant some trees and let my roots grow deeper into this place I’ve come to love so much.
And then it came. This thought. If my life is going so well, and if I get the promotion, and if we end up moving into that adorable little house and things are just going too perfectly. If all of these things happen, if everything goes as planned. Then the universe probably won’t have any choice but to throw something terrible at me, will it?
Because that’s just how these things work.