I Need the Serenity Prayer

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things that I can; and the wisdom to know the difference. --Reinhold Niebuhr


My youngest cousin might be on his deathbed. I'm writing that statement to make sure it's real and to help me wrap my brain around it.

My 85 year-old mother just called to tell me that my 55-year-old cousin, her brother's youngest child, has developed an inoperable bowel obstruction. He was overwhelmed by the pain last night and rushed to the hospital, where he is now under heavy sedation.

So much about this is just wrong.

First, it just isn't fair. He's the youngest. He's leaving us out of turn. His sister and brother rely upon his strength of character, and his mother and father, also in their 80s, shouldn't have to even imagine having to witness cancer's massacre on their baby boy.

Second, my mother called me so that I could talk her off the ledge. This nephew of hers is her godson. She promised God to look after him in the event his parents couldn't. What's wrong with having my mom call me for support is that, despite our 10-year age difference, we were the closest to each other. My heart is shredded with this news, but I have to bear up because my mother needs me.

Third, cancer has killed every male in my family who has died during my lifetime. This disease has stricken my younger sister, who, contrary to conventional wisdom, doesn't seem to have inherited breast cancer -- she is the only woman in the family who has had it. Mercifully, she is a 20-year survivor.

Enough, already!

How does one prepare for the inevitable loss of someone so young, so dear and so sorely needed?