February 8, 2003
When death becomes cruel...
by mike <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Alright, I'm sick of it. Death. What the hell? After reading this, maybe you won't find it so hard to understand why I don't believe in a god.
Ten years ago, my mom got a phone call in the middle of the night saying her mother had died. Three weeks later, her father died. Two and a half weeks after that, one of her sisters died. What in the hell is that?
Next, my father's mother has a stroke three months ago. It's a decently bad one, and she still hasn't recovered. They found out recently that she's blind in one eye and has a cataract in the other.
...and then today my dad's brother dies. 49 years old, he's outside shoveling snow with his daughter. He starts to feel "crappy" and they go inside to rest. She goes to take a shower and when she comes down, her father (my dad's brother, my uncle) is dead of a heart attack (AMI, to us paramedicy people).
Jesus on the cross, what the hell is that? How can you call that something a just and loving god would do? Don't give me the biblical "god only gives you what you can handle" bullsh*t. This is just cruel and too much. I haven't even begun to comprehend the pain my grandfather must be going through, with an ailing wife and now outliving one of his children. It's beyond understanding. (And no, that's not evidence of a divine plan either, a**hole.)
One thing is true, though... the bad things always happen to the best people. I should be the one slumped in a chair, when compared to my Uncle John. If only I had the choice.
Published: February 8, 2003