Seven Days

 Starting today, the next seven days are my least favorite of the year.

What’s so bad about seven days in late October?  In and of themselves, nothing.  This year they are a Wednesday through a Tuesday.

But they are days of pain and mourning for me.

Today, October 20, is the 21st anniversary of my father’s death.

Friday, October 22, is the 16th anniversary of my mother’s death.

Tuesday, October 26, is the 11th anniversary of my stroke.  The day I almost died.

The coincidence of those dates so close together never ceases to chill me.  There are 365 days in a year.  There’s no logical reason for these three events to happen within a week of each other on the calendar.  It’s weird that they are spread so evenly apart.  Five years from Pop to Mom, five more from Mom to me.

If I’m quieter this week, that’s why.  It is a time to ponder mortality.  Time for the question of Life, The Universe and Everything.  Life and death.

Maybe the answer is 42.  I don’t know.  The only wisdom I have for you is this: hug those you love.  Every time you can.  Because you never know when that time will be over.

Peace.