When my friend told me details of his aunt's passing, I fell silent. I did not want to ask too much, and for the whole day I waited until he wanted to talk, to share. When he did, it was when we were heading home together at night. The streets were quiet, empty, except for the sound of the wheels of our bike, and his wavering voice.
The aunt was so young still, in her mid forties. Left behind a husband and four children, the youngest being seven. When I heard that, my heart wrenched in pain... what of the children? To lose their mother at such a young age... To grow up not having their mother... All so sudden. All too quick. All too soon. Cancer kills so ruthlessly and quickly. That much I know perhaps well enough...
What fills my friend with regret is that it could also happen to his parents. He did not say it, but I think he thought. Thought about the very possibility of one day receiving a phone call with the news that someone dear, someone close far away is nearing the end... I know and can understand that fear, that worry perhaps all too well...
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