It is said that death or tragedy strikes in threes.

The past month has proven this cliche to be an utter and total understatement.

My grandfather died expectedly after a long illness about a few weeks ago.

My uncle has slipped into a severe coma after battling with diabetes for over half his life.

Both of these were expected. These next few, however, were not:

Yesterday, I learned that a friend of mine and three other members of his family were killed in a car accident while on their way to a wedding on Wednesday. The kid had just turned twenty and was headed for a very successful life.

My co-worker, this morning, informed me that the hippie boy that I used to party with had committed suicide by overdosing this past week. Apparently, according to the four page note, he was not as happy and life-loving as he let on. Makes you wonder what goes on in some people's heads.

I recieved an e-mail this morning from a good friend of mine whom I have known since the beginning of high school. He is leaving tomorrow to fight in Afghanistan. It's quite odd, because I remember a conversation I had had with him two years ago, when he was enlisting in the reserves, and I had warned him of the possibility of deployment. He knew there wasn't going to be a war in the next few years and had only joined to afford college. I am sure he never had any intention of dying for this Bastard Country that sends babies to kill other babies.

so it goes.

Please, remember the people that you love and that love you. Tell them. Now. You may not get another chance.