Breathe in, something happens. Breathe out, nothing happens. Breathe in, have a worry. Breathe out, have a baby. Breathe in, worry about the pandemic. Breathe out, life ever changed.

I’ve written before about how having cancer or SCAD or any other serious disease gives us “usual suspects” to worry about. I could get cancer again, I could have another heart attack, I could get Covid, I could get long Covid. Even with the usual suspects, other causes of death can get us, maybe today, maybe tomorrow, or maybe long from now. We never know.

Two Thursdays ago, my daughter’s new 24-year-old boyfriend was riding his motorcycle to his apartment for a date with my 24-year-old. He was hit by the driver of a car, making a left into their driveway.

I think of how he was feeling on that motorcycle, happy and free, looking forward to a date with his new girlfriend, breathing in and breathing out.

That 24-year-old died six days later. He no doubt received excellent care at our excellent trauma center but his injuries were extensive.

His parents have lost one of their children. Our daughter has not only lost a dear friend and boyfriend, but has lost the sense of youth and agelessness. He lost the potential of the rest of his life. The world lost his presence.

Breathe in, my dear 24-year-old is safe. Breathe out, another mother’s 24-year-old has breathed his last.

By the time I was 24-years-old, I had dealt with the death of my grandfather. It was hard but old people dying is a more acceptable part of the life cycle than a young person dying.

John and I have been worried about our own 24-year-old. How will we support her through this loss? So far, she is grieving in a healthy way and mostly without out assistance. She has friends and loved ones, some that we know and some who we don’t. Our lives overlap but not completely.

Breathe in. Breathe out. As Jon Kabat-Zinn says, “As long as you are breathing, there is more right with you than wrong.

Breathe in, nothing happens. Breathe out, something happens. Breathe in, everything happens. Breathe out, too much happens.

I have been grieving about the boredom and isolation that the pandemic has brought. Thank you, boredom. Thank you isolation. You are better than so many alternatives.

Much love to you all,

Elizabeth