Death returns to Williamsburg

Death is a cruel bitch.

For the last few days I've been worried that my mother, who fell ill with a kidney/UTI infection, was in really bad health and not going to make it through. She had a fever last Saturday, then was rushed to the hospital on Sunday by my uncle Tim and Grandma. She is on the mend, but her continued fevers have me even more concerned because that still hasn't been controlled. Mom is resting in a hospital, and my uncle Tim drives from Virginia to North Carolina and has a heart attack and dies.

Really?!?

Just how effed up is that?!? I know, I'll have to get used to this as I get older and forget that all of the adults in my life are even older than I am and will start to pass away, one by one, like some kind of deathmarch, but I always like to think of people passing away after living a LOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNGGG long life. Not some quick death in middle age.

I may be flying home to Williamsburg in a day or two, but I'm dreading it. I'm glad to get back and visit my family, but I really would love to go back and not be visiting for a funeral of a family member. Plus, I don't want to go back and be thinking the entire time I'm with Mom in the hospital "what if she doesn't make it?"