Wednesday 9 January 2002

On Death (and Life)

It had been a long time since I last talked to Miranda Himmelman. Or even heard her name in a sentence. She was an old friend from elementary school. She was a year or two ahead of me, and we lost touch after her parents divorced, and she moved to the next county. Since birth, she had suffered from cystic
, a chronic illness of the digestive and respiratory systems. She died on Saturday from complications of her illness. She was 21.

Twenty one. I'm twenty. It scares the bejeezus out of me, sure. It also reminds me of how valuable every minute of life is.
Be happy. Spend time with friends. Love. And be loved. And so on.

Five minutes after that, I get an ICQ from my brother. He was in a car accident a few minutes earlier. He's okay, but he can't get in touch with my parents. So he ICQs me. The Internet paradigm taking over our world, indeed. Who knew? But we're glad he's okay.

So, in short, today wasn't a fun day. Foo.


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