Upon reading that milblogger “Bubblehead”, who posts at Mudville Gazette Milblogs, has stomach cancer, an immediate thought popped into my head: Why not me?
I thought of commenting, as I do on most every post I read from anyone involved in a tragedy or illness or tough time in life, and thought of relating of how my grandpa died of cancer when I was 14 and my birth mother died of cancer 2 months after I was born and how that has affected my life and perspective on those who deal with cancer.
And that last thought made me wonder why don’t I get cancer? Why did my birth mom – who, from all I have heard from family members who knew her, was a wonderful person, full of love, caring, and life – have to die of cancer and yet I live on with an amazing immune system and cancer free?
What have I, a nobody who basically adds nothing to society in the big picture compared to these others such as military members and good family men like “Bubblehead”, done to deserve not having cancer? Why couldn’t I die of cancer and these others remain illness free and continue to share their wonderful gift with the world?
Why is someone like me, who would not be missed and whose departure from society would not be felt much at all, afforded a healthy life, yet others, more deserving, more worthy, have to suffer – and sometimes die – of cancer?
My grandpa was the most loving, caring, sacrificing person I have ever been around in my life. I still miss him terribly. From what I know from others, my birth-mother was the same type of person. Why are people like these taken from us, yet people like me remain?
Why not me? Why not take me? Why not just end my life and spare someone more worthy?
Why are the good, decent people taken from us? Why not me?
No, I did not leave a comment. I actually rarely do anymore on any posts I read related to someone suffering from an illness or death in the family or any kind of life tragedy, because I never know what to say that will make any sort of difference. I feel that (1) nothing I say will matter and (2) even if I had the perfect words, coming from me, someone whom the person does not know and with whom has no kind of emotional connection, the words wouldn’t matter much. Yeah, I guess there is the possibility that shared experience is comforting and someone sympathizing or empathizing with another’s situation is also comforting. But I always feel as if I am inserting myself into someone’s life where I am not wanted.
Yes, I know. Yes, I know the answer to my own question. Life just isn’t fair. Good people die all the time. Bad things happen to good people. Good things happen to bad people. That is just how life is. That is most especially evident after seeing a good man get trounced in the latest Presidential election and a morally bankrupt bad man rise to the position of the most powerful man in the world. Life isn’t fair. Never has been, never will be. It still will not stop me from asking every now and then why the fuck that is…