Tuesday, May 09, 2017

People disappear

I imagine the husband and wife were ecstatic as they boarded the plane.

Of course they would have been ecstatic--at the end of the travel to the other side of the planet, they were going to meet their daughter who was graduating with a masters degree in engineering.

I imagine a whole lot of hugging, despite the old country traditions, when they all met after the immigration and customs processing in a country that the parents were visiting for the first time.

I imagine that the parents and their ready-to-graduate daughter reached her apartment, where the daughter had dinner waiting for the tired travelers from the old country.  And then a bunch of phone calls to people in the old and new countries.  Sheer excitement all around.

I do not know what to imagine when the father was dead the following morning.
Early morning.
Barely a few hours after landing on the American soil.

I was reminded of the quote that was attributed to Haruki Murakami, which I had tweeted only two days prior to this unfortunate and tragic end:
People just disappear sometimes. You have to love and appreciate them while they're near you.
It is one thing to tweet that, or blog about death, which I have done in plenty.  But, that moment, when the message about the death appeared on my screen, I was at a loss for words.  What can one possibly tell some one at such a moment of grief and shock?

My imagination drew a blank.

I could barely come up with:
OMG!
How terrible ... am so sorry
Awful 😞
People disappear forever.  He did.

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