Time

As I write this, David is still at home. He's removed the oxygen and is now waiting for the inevitable. He's made it past Thanksgiving, but we're afraid he won't make it to Christmas. If we're lucky, he will. If not, we will probably be attending a funeral.

My dear one and I got a Christmas card from David. It was hard as hell to open, let alone read. I nearly started crying just seeing the envelope. At twenty-five, you shouldn't be worrying about anyone's funeral, let alone your own. I just want to ask, "Why?' Why should someone so young die? Why, when David has just gotten his life together, when he's just gotten everything straight, why should his life end now?

Why? Why God, why?