Forget the "why"

“Why?” might play an important role in criminal investigations as it goes straight to motive but I’m coming to terms with the energy wasted by asking it in times of personal pain. It rarely seems that the answer can justify the effect and it --- to date --- has never been able to reset the course of life after the effect.

Recently, I learned that a very lovely friend from high school died too early from cancer. (Mid-50s, which seems to be common among women --- me, two cousins-who-are-sisters, two sisters-in-law, and too many other women in the chemo suite with me.) Our paths crossed because she was my brother’s high school sweetheart.

Looking at some Facebook comments about her, one poster wrote. [She was] “wonderful, positive, quirky and fun…I primarily remember her with braces” …as do we all. Smile.

It was her joy, energy and excitement with life the made her stand out. And while her path took her away from my brother, it did take her onto a career as a neurologist, marriage and three daughters. Her focus in life was to do good and I can only imagine the difference she made for her patients and their families and in her community.

My sadness manifests itself in the realization that someone so young and contributing so positively is lost too soon. Getting an answer to why, “cancer” doesn’t comfort the sadness or fill the void created.

A year ago one of my best friends in the GALAXY died far too young at 67 due to health issues.

In high school he was told by a guidance counselor that he wasn’t college material. He went on to Princeton, Antioch College, and Newark State College focusing on guidance counseling and education. He then spent the rest of his days inspiring school students to see themselves as college students, helping them prepare to get into college, and ensuring that they were successful once they gained admission.

I recall telling him more than once that he saved lives every day to which I’d get a humble little blush and tiny grin…maybe a chuckle from time to time.

What struck me most about him and still does is that he never had a doubt about what he was put here to do and just went about doing it as best he could. “Leave a mark, now a stain,” he would suggest to anyone listening.

He left his mark indeed.

But I’m left wondering why the cosmos, my God, whatever karmic structure is out there decided that someone who helps so many young people and would have been happy to continue to do so for many, many, many years was taken so soon.

How could a spiritual being think we didn’t need these valuable people in the world?

God and I have had lots of words about this over that last year as I’ve come to terms with this absence. He (God) has let me stew a lot and finally, I was led back to someone’s comment on Facebook after this death.

“Who will fill his shoes?” someone posted.

To which I responded, “I hope we will all step up,” knowing that none of us alone were probably able to fill those shoes. After posting, I quickly forgot about it and went back to pondering “why?”

Perspective comes with time because indeed, that’s where at least a part of the answer has come from for me.

As painful as the losses are, perhaps those voids are created to remind us that we should not be so dependent on one person to carry the whole burden of addressing needs and coming to the assistance to those in need. While at the same time, the rest of us laud ourselves for whatever sideline support we offered.

Maybe, just maybe, we lose some of the best of us too soon as a “slap me into next Tuesday” notice that it’s our time and turn to step up and contribute to the needs around us.

Spending too much time pondering the “why” factor stunts us all and doesn’t honor those lost. The better question has to be: “How can I help now?”

Remembering Barb Jahnke, MD, 1959-2015 and Tendaji W. Ganges, 1948-2015