The Unfairness of It All

I was out last night with some friends and I noticed this guy across the room.  My eyes almost immediately filled with tears because he looks like someone I know.

*Correction.  Someone I knew.

He looked like Cody would have five or ten years down the road.  The eyes, the face, the perfectly full beard that looked like it had been brushed out and looking sharp.  A little older, but it was him.  But it wasn’t….  A car accident a little over a month ago took this young man, that I considered a nephew, from us.  We don’t get that five or ten years down the road view.

This morning I am puttering around the house.  My plan was (IS) to go visit my father who is currently living in a nursing facility.  A year and a half ago he fell and for the second time in six months broke his hip.  He has never returned home and has been in hospitals or care facilities since.  Before his second fall I hadn’t talked to him in over five years.  His fate sealed by his own choices and way of life.

This morning I am doing everything possible to prolong a visit that I know I should take, but don’t really want to.  A visit with a man that gave up on life so many years ago, yet it still clings to him.  Grief makes us ask those big questions and we expect big answers.

WHY?

People will give us the party line.  Fate.  God wanted him and called him home.  He’s in a better place.  It’s God’s will.

It’s placating bull shit.  We want the big answers.  We want to know WHY someone so young, full of promise, and full of love for those that loved him would be plucked from this world before someone that is the antithesis of all of that and just rotting here.  I remember that call that morning and assumed it was about my father and when it wasn’t all I could think was WHY NOT?  WHY THIS?  WHY?  And I’m not sorry for feeling that way.  If Monty Hall were to descend from the clouds in angel wings and a studio microphone and was prepared to make a deal, I’d take the Cody box in a second and a half flat.

But there’s no Monty and the reality is that we are left with a world without him and forced to lace up our shoes and drive thirty miles to go face the unfairness.

Cody Michael Newton 1993 – 2018 ❤

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We love you kid.


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