Damn that Death Anyway

Why is it that Death always wins? So far, undefeated and on a bigtime victory streak lately! Time to bring in some forces to at least put up some roadblocks to slow down the Juggernaut of late.

Our community has been reeling for the past several days after the tragic death of a bright, talented, likeable teen. Even people, like me, who did not even know the young man felt the hard blow to the gut when learning of his passing at age 15.

Why so young? Why just before Christmas? Why this kid, with such a bright future, who wore a constant smile and brought a smile to the faces of virtually everyone with whom he came in contact? Why rip the hearts out of his family, friends and the community in general?

There are the stock answers---that it's all part of a plan, that God takes His angels, etc. That still doesn't do much to soothe the hearts of those who are left to grieve and to deal with the void of yet another missing light of their lives.

Death has been busy among my friends lately, and it makes me mad. I remember years ago when my friend Helen and I were at a meeting coordinated by the Spokesman-Review.

Can't remember its purpose---maybe part of the paper's efforts to reach out to the communities within its readership. What I do remember---and that was years ago---was Helen's frank comment about living in her community for so many years.

It was something to the effect of "I'll be going to more funerals." Being six years younger than Helen and being much younger than I am now, her comment opened my eyes, but I still hadn't lived long enough to fully grasp such a statement.

Well, I've reached that point, and I've mentioned it a time or two on this blog. One of the most profound negatives of living in one's community for a lifetime is dealing with the ravages of Invincible Death. We all know it's coming to greet ourselves one day, and there's not much we can do to fend it off.

When it methodically takes those we know and love, however, the anger is sometimes hard to contain. I guess that's what I'm feeling this morning as I write this posting. Yesterday, I heard of three people I know who have died. Earlier this week I learned that our former next-door neighbor on Great Northern Road died after battling cancer for more than three years.

Her name was Nancy Thorpe. As I wrote in response to her daughter who had contacted me, I'll again say that Nancy was the light of most everyone's lives with whom she came in contact. She was a fun, caring neighbor. We enjoyed many conversations during the years she, John and their family lived down the road. My kids knew her kids.

We talked about development around the airport. We talked about our kids, and I'll never forget when we talked on the day that John ran for his life when the Pentagon was bombed on Sept. 11, 2001. John was serving with the Naval Reserves at the time.

The Thorpes eventually moved to Oregon where John serves in the Oregon State Fish and Game. Nancy was passionate and positive, and I do recall becoming her Facebook friend, shortly after she had surgery this fall. She even sent me a couple of notes.

It was sad to receive her daughter's note and to share the information with the rest of my family.

Yesterday I learned that Death had snatched our new neighbor who has been building a new home and farm north of us. He always waved. Last summer he and another neighbor rounded up our three horses who had managed to get loose and go for a run down the road. He seemed like a good man who was anxious to make the permanent move to this neighborhood with his wife and daughter.

I heard about another death that disturbed me greatly, but I'll not get specific about that just yet because I've heard from only one person. While trying to find more information about this person, I discovered the supreme blow of the day.

There, on the funeral home webpage was the name of my hairdresser, Joyce Campbell. Three weeks ago Joyce fixed me up with the bi-monthly zapping and haircut the day before I left for Maui. When I called to make an appointment, she said, "Let's do it the day before you leave so it will look really nice."

Joyce was more than a hairdresser to me. I did write about her beautician skills and Sandpoint's beloved Hair Hut in my last book. Over the years, Joyce was a good friend and confidante. We shared our family stories, our philosophies and just plain good conversation as I sat in her chair for nearly three hours each time.

I always gave Joyce a hug after she gave me her time and her talents, and as we both looked in the mirror and agreed that the newest "do" sure did look nice.

Yesterday after the first shock of learning about Joyce's sudden death, I called my friend Helen---the one who talked about going to so many funerals so many years ago. I knew that Helen and Joyce were classmates.

"I've got to sit down," Helen said, clearly stunned. "Joyce and I went to grade school together." Helen talked about the recent 50th-year SHS class reunion they had enjoyed.

I've become a veteran of reading and sometimes writing obituaries of people I've known, admired, loved and maybe even just met occasionally. You'd think one would get used to the fact that Death always comes out on top as the Invincible Victor.

After the bad news of the past several days, however, I'm not at all impressed with our ultimate opponent's flawless record. Couldn't there be an "off-season" for a while?

My deepest condolences go out to all families who are suffering in each of these recent heart-breaking losses.