Tuesday, September 28, 2004 AD Someone I Know Drowned Last Week I didn't know Vance (link requires login) well. In fact, it took me half a day to pull his picture out of the recesses of my mind. His wife I remember a little better (though this was the first I'd heard that they'd gotten married) as she took over the CCF newsletter after I stopped attending several years ago. I'm sure there were a number of people on the Outer Banks trip that I did know, though -- the same crowd has been going year after year. (And, contrary to the Sun article, it's not a retreat, it's just a social event.)
Someone I know died. And tragically: young, healthy guy with a beautiful new wife. Even though Vance's death will make no impact on my day-to-day life, it's still unsettled me for the past 24 hours. Not in the sense that I'm Thinking Deep Thoughts About Life and Death -- I'm not -- just in the sense of shock and grief, however muted by the distance of our acquaintance.
For years, whenever I talk to my mom (who is now 75), her end of the conversation has as often as not included a litany of who's dying and who's dead among her acquaintances. I never know who any of these people are, so it used to annoy me to listen to her. But I've learned to be glad for her to tell me, because I know she needs to talk about it. Vance's death makes me realize why: You never get over it. You never get used to it. It's always a shock and a sadness. And for someone my mother's age, it buffets with relentless frequency.
