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It isn’t supposed to

published: 2009-11-17

“This has never happened to me before,” said my friend and her voice trembled. Her voice never trembles. Ever. She handed the phone to her husband who cried and screamed. I felt like crying and screaming for them. But what good would that do?
He lost his brother today. He wrote to us, describing what happened. In simple and elegant language. It is the most beautiful piece of writing I have ever received. The description ended in how his brother had climbed a crane at 4 am in the morning. He was returning from Germany where he was for work. Didn’t feel well, his brother had said. He was only a half hour away from home. Where his wife was, and his two children.
My uncle commited suicide at age 32, leaving a family behind. He gassed himself in a garage. My father has never found peace with it. To this day, he misses his little brother terribly. He dreams about him sometimes. He thoroughly enjoys those dreams and his eyes sparkle when he tells me how for a moment his little brother is right there, in the room. Alive. “He’s still a young and handsome man. And look at me! I’m old!”
I am deeply sad for my dear friends and their family.
This never happened to you before. Because it isn’t supposed to.

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