I just don't understand why things happen the way they do sometimes.
God must have his reasons.
This morning, a co-worker, who I didn't get the chance to know very well but what I did know I loved, died. She was 49.
Six weeks ago she was flying past my office with her beautiful dark hair, on her way to the kitchen to make her oatmeal. Whenever I hear the hallway door open and hear keys rattling on someone's hip, I think it's her.
A diagnosis of lung cancer and a life-sucking brain tumor later, and she's gone.
I just don't get it.
I never told her how beautiful her hair was. I wish I had.