None of us knows what will happen tomorrow.

One Monday morning my brother David didn’t show up for work. He was only sixty years old, and yet the unthinkable had happened. We have missed him for more than twelve years now.

Yesterday we received a call that Danny, our beloved cousin, had been admitted to City of Hope with a diagnosis of pancreatic cancer. His daughter was flying in from England, and his son driving down to Los Angeles from Fresno.

Bad stuff happens. We all know that. But too o...