Ready for Cancer?

I heard recently that a college acquaintance succumbed to cancer at 40, and I was reminded again of the blessing and the curse that is cancer.

It's entirely possible that a cancerous cell is even now lurking somewhere in my body, having received its assignment of mutation from a twisted strand of DNA gone wrong somewhere between me and Adam.

I'm not wishing for it, but I've known others who made the transition from life to Life courtesy of a bullet, a windshield or a blocked artery. So, how could I curse God for giving me three months or three years to set my house in order and say goodbye, to drain every last good word from my soul—particularly those that become trapped on the tongue when the Grim Reaper is off attending to someone else's business?

The thing worse than the physical suffering of the afflicted must be the grief of the long goodbye, the interminable boarding of the plane before it sets off for an exciting new destination, those left behind standing forlorn on the tarmac.

Remember him—before the silver cord is severed,
or the golden bowl is broken;
before the pitcher is shattered at the spring,
or the wheel broken at the well. - Ecclesiastes 12:6