Yesterday, J and I went to P.K. O'Ryan's, one of our favorite of all places, for dinner. After we'd placed our orders (cheeseburgers for both of us, a Stella for me and a Young's Double Chocolate Stout for him), I suddenly recalled something from years ago. It was the eve of my eldest brother's wedding and we were exiting the restaurant after a very jovial rehearsal dinner. My middle brother and I flanked our sister-in-law to be and asked if she was sure she wanted to join our family, was she certain she wanted to become one of us with our cursed history.
M, my middle brother, and I used to half-joke about how someone in our past must have made a deal with the devil given all the rotten luck we'd suffered in childhood. These days I think we both figure that everything that happened and happens is due to poor health and mental illness but when you are young and certain traumas are still fresh, it feels like a family curse. So we asked this girl if she really wanted to sign up for possible and probable misfortune.
I texted M last night to see if he remembered doing that but I never heard back. I wonder if she remembers. It isn't true of course. What has happened to her has nothing to do with the fact that she married into the family. I don't believe in ghosts or demons or superstition but I do admit that the fanciful part of me is glad I took my husband's name because that would save me from a similar fate. The rational part of me knows that the cancer has been with this person for years, in a growth on her foot that she ignored too late because it didn't bother her. It was with her long before she met my brother.
But when things like this happen, when you receive this type of news, who remains 100% rational right away?
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