After a very concerned and thoughtful phone call last night, I thought I had better post - after all, it has been a whole week.
It's been a little bit crazy, around Chez Peepee. Last Thursday, I got an email message from my sister-in-law with a link to a news story about an accidental death in my hometown, and that it wasn't my brother (her husband). I sent back a saucy reply and moved on.
The next morning, the phone rang at 7 AM.
Those kinds of phone calls are never good news.
Especially when I have a pregnant sister-in-law (the other one) and the baby's not due until October.
It was my mom.
She was calling to tell me that my brother wasn't dead. The dead guy was my classmate. A man that I saw Monday to Friday, every day, from Kindergarten to Grade 12. I hadn't seen him for about six years. When I last saw him, he and his wife were expecting their first baby. The newspaper tells me he has two children and is divorced.
My brother tells me the funeral was very well attended, and Facebook tells me that lots of my classmates are reeling with shock.
Me? I'm shocked too. And supremely pissed off at god, or fate, or karma, or the universe or whateverthefuckyouwanttocallit. NOBODY deserves to die this way. Ever.
So, yeah. I am alive. And suddenly I'm grateful for that.