I’ve noticed something about mothers. They seem morbidly obsessed with sudden and sad deaths. Not a week goes by without me hearing of somebody’s mother telling stories of shockingly sudden bouts of cancer or heart attacks. They don’t seem to notice the hundreds of people around them who, every single day, don’t get cancer and don’t have heart attacks.
“Paul Brown. Sure you remember little Paulie Brown, you used to play together as kids. He’s married now; a wife to support. Three young children of his own too. Twenty six years old he is. Twenty six. Last week, he was walking across the road to the supermarket, and BAM! breathing normally. how sudden! how fine and dandy!”