The Wall

Some days the whole thing feels like a cosmic administrative error. Like surely someone mixed up files. Surely this wasn’t the assigned path. Surely there was a point in the process where somebody could have said, “No, not them. Wrong family. Wrong woman. Wrong timeline.” I know that sounds childish. I know the universe is under no obligation to make sense. But part of me still rebels against the sheer audacity of this being real. We were just living our life. Building things. Raising kids. Planning porch projects. Arguing about dumb shit. Watching movies. Being ordinary. And then cancer showed up and pulled the whole structure inside out. It feels illegal. It feels impossible. It feels like I should be able to appeal. Instead I’m here sorting socks and trying not to lose my mind when a song comes on. If there’s a grand design to this, it can frankly kiss my ass.