In April it was Joan’s mom — suddenly and at home.
In May it was Jerry. He was a couple of years older than I am. He was on his way home from picking his daughter up from college — and luckily not driving.
In August it was Aunt Nancy — she’d suffered for years from lung cancer so the end might have been a blessing.
In October it was Dad.
In January it was Joe — our cat.
Last Friday it was Bill. I’m not sure of his age, but suspect he was younger than I am. I sat next to him two weekends ago at a Burns’ Supper and participated in a dance afterwards in which he was the leader. He carried his 19 year-old daughter who has CP up the stairs with what looked like no problem at all that evening. It was sudden and at home.
And the most disturbing part is — it’s going to get worse.