Why The Good Die Young

I’m in a bitchy mood.

I just saw my late friend Nan’s husband on the avenue producing the same haunted question every time I see him.

Why her and not him?

I know that’s not nice, but you do have to wonder why the angels leave and the shits remain.

Years ago, when I was a fitness trainer, I taught a lovely man I’ll call Bob Gold. I saw him once a week without fail to help him with his bad back.

Such a gentleman, tall…stately with fluffy white hair, and a wife you’d like to put through a window.

A life long smoker finally catching up with him, he got emphysema, dying in his mid 60s.

I was no longer in his life then, having no idea he had passed. But every year in May, without fail, sent him a birthday card.

One day, his wife, sauntering down the street in her ubiquitous Chanel suit and double-strand of pearls, came toward me. “Hi Mrs. Gold, how are you?” I said, in my best Connecticut voice, “and how’s Mr. Gold?”

“Dead…two years now.”

“Excuse me?” I said, more than a little floored. “But I just sent him a birthday card.”

She looked at me with such disdain without even answering, rudely walking away.

You would think she or one of her kids could have dropped me a note to say…our father died. This witch of a woman who really was so the opposite of this kind, well-mannered man, casually severed me with her oblivious chill.

Of course, it’s what I like to refer to as…help syndrome. Why would anyone bother to inform someone so menial we paid some passing service to.

This came to mind when I saw Nan’s husband on his way to the gym.

Nan was a sweet, warm human being. Her husband, on the other hand, would kill you for a parking space.

Why does God take the better halves of these lopsided relationships? I’m not exercising my lapsed Catholicism by any means, but I do pose the question.

Let’s hope wherever the good land, it’s equal to a 5-star hotel with unlimited amenities including a well-stocked mini bar, to make up for checking out early…at the very least.

SB

 

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About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
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21 Responses to Why The Good Die Young

  1. micklively says:

    Your piece poses a paradox: if you believe in the afterlife and paradise, you should wish death on the good: it’s their just deserts.
    If you don’t believe, live every day like it’s your last.
    If you don’t know what to believe, don’t worry about the dead and live every day like it’s your last anyway.

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  2. Amen! We had a couple that came into the office faithfully and the husband was the biggest fuck on the planet, especially to his wife. She died suddenly or was it an extreme escape? Now he comes in trying to be nice … please.

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  3. I have a few (just a few) couple friends where one is just awful. We usually stop doing social things with them because it’s not fun. In both cases it’s the wife. If we have a get together we fantasize about getting appropriate dates for the better halves. Sometimes I don’t understand the attraction between people at all.

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  4. pmahaney says:

    Maybe it’s true what they say that, “Opposites attract!” And then there are children who pass before ever knowing who they will become. I always ask, “What did they ever due that caused them to die long before their time?” Makes it hard to have faith in much of anything but the love of the good that remain… that I can believe in.

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  5. pmahaney says:

    I’ll echo that sentiment Susannah.

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  6. skinnyuz2b says:

    Susannah, I’ve noticed this way too often, also. It really makes you wonder. When my oldest daughter was around 10 years old she observed this phenomenon within a year’s span with two couples we were friends with. She said, “I’m not trying to be mean, but why did the good ones die?” A hard question to answer.

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    • I agree, and the guilt I feel is vast, but so many people I’ve loved are gone. It’s quite bewildering when you think about it. Where are they Skinny…for real…what truly happens when you bite the dust…as it were.

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  7. Your first line drew me in. Great start, by the way. Great question and I am still pondering it. Everything you wrote, I truly understand. Reminds me of a greeting card I once saw and regret never buying it. “Guess who I ran into the other day?” “I backed up and ran into them again and again.” DAF

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  8. That’s a good questions, Susannah, and although I could offer some trite responses that I don’t believe, I won’t. The statistician in me wonders if the rate is the same but we don’t notice the bad ones as much when they go. The world is not always fair, that’s for sure.

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