Life moves on inexorably … right on to death

I was having a good day yesterday. Work was productive and not ugly. I bought a sweater at lunchtime (Jones New York, 30% off). Worked out before meeting a friend at the theater (Doubt is excellent). Dinner and drinks afterward (I had a martini). Got home about 11:00 to a couple of voicemails.

My uncle's wife died last evening.

Life rolls on. Until it stops. That's how it goes for everyone, isn't it?

She had been very ill for months. Cancer, pneumonia, blood clots. She was not going to get better, so I suppose this is the happiest ending her story could have: One last Christmas, one last visit from her children.

The wake and funeral are going to be hard on my uncle. He has a debilitating disease, Parkinson's. He is uncomfortable in public because of his symptoms. (I'm sure Rush Limbaugh agrees he should be, too.) Now he will have to mourn in public. Their marriage wasn't that great even when they each had their health, so there is something insincere and barbaric about putting him through all this.

But I will attend this circus because he is my uncle and, in his way, he has always been good to me. I will suck it up and stop being selfish and show my respect and gratitude by showing up.

Today sucks.