For Cody

Sometimes life gives you a swift kick in the gut. About two hours ago my next door neighbor's son died suddenly at age twenty-two. It is not known yet why he died but his doctor thinks something catastrophic happen to his body. He had been sick for about a week but a virus has been going around town so the fact that he had not been feeling well did not seem threatening in any way. He was at his parents house when he vomited and then collapsed. By the time the ambulance got there he was no longer breathing and they put him on a respirator for the ride to the hospital. Although they did the best they could it was too late.

My husband and I were coming home from the airport when we saw the ambulance pulling away from the front of our neighbor's house followed by my neighbor in her van. As we were getting out of our truck my neighbor's sister, who lives across the street from us, was coming out of her house and my husband asked what was going on. She burst into tears and said it was Cody. We went inside our house hoping everything would be alright. About an hour ago I went to the door to let Duke inside and saw people standing in my neighbors front yard. I knew this was not a good sign and walked over to find out what was going on. Cody's younger sister was sitting on the front steps crying as a friend tried to console her. Hoping things were not as bad as I thought, I ask one of the women leaning against the fence if Cody was OK. She hesitated and then told me Cody had died.

His parents are still in shock as is most everyone who knows them and Cody. Since I heard the news I have been thinking about the sweet little boy who would come over to play with my dogs and the shy, strong, handsome young man who did not hesitate to lend a hand when needed. And I have been thinking about his brother, sister, and parents. It's not fair, it's not fair.

I hate it when bad things happen to good people. I hate the pain that Cody's family is going through right now and the days of grief that are ahead for them. I hate the fact that there is nothing any of us can really do to take that pain away.


Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
W. H. Auden