Facebook is strange because you sometimes find out extraordinarily intimate information about friends and acquaintances you no longer talk to. One playwright I know was tagged in the photos of her husband’s funeral, so I sent an email, because I like her but also felt like I was spying. Anyway, through the FB Newsfeed, I learned that fiends from grad school got married once same-sex marriage passed in New York, they had a child before that, one of them got cancer, before the wedding. All of this I learned from afar, and none of it did I take too seriously. Everything, I believe (maybe naively) will work out. Nothing happens to us that we can’t handle. But I just learned the woman died this week. WTF. That wasn’t supposed to happen. She was supposed to get better, heal, then write a theater piece about that dark period of life that no longer exists. I thought for sure, she would survive. She has a three-year-old son. Ugh.

I have my life stresses, but I hear something like this and my troubles seem puny.

P.S. Cancer sucks. I hate it. It blows.

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