crimsonfox102 said:I am so sorry...
I know this might sound like a silly question—maybe a bit out there—but has anyone ever truly figured out why people get glioblastoma? According to some statistics mentioned during a segment on CNN regarding Hloverkin's show, the causes of malignant diseases are broken down into about 30% diet, 30% smoking, and 5% alcohol, while stress, lack of exercise, genetics, and other factors sit around 2-5%. To me, it feels like stress plays a much, much bigger role in all of this...
I wouldn't say they're necessarily right... My father-in-law was never a sickly man. We live out in the country and grow all our own food—whenever he went in for his KKS checkups, the doctor would tell him his results looked like those of a young boy. I know he suffered immensely during his time in exile because he couldn't even get back to his own yard (for what it's worth, my father-in-law was a mason, so he was always on the move—even on the day of his first seizure, he actually walked out to the field just to see if the clover had grown enough for mowing...).
He almost never smoked...
The number of people battling serious illnesses feels overwhelming lately—honestly, if you ask me, it’s all a lingering fallout from the war, regardless of whether folks lived right in the combat zones or further away. Life just moves at a hundred miles an hour now! I grew up in the city, but after things settled down and I moved out to the countryside, the older generation would always tell me how they actually had time for daily, weekly, or even annual vacations. They ate less meat, stayed active, walked more, and truly spent time laughing and connecting with one another. But us today? We don't even have time for ourselves, let alone anyone else—then we wonder what went wrong when tragedy strikes. We've become so self-centered. When our loved ones get sick, we pray to God that they stay with us as long as possible, mostly because we want them there so *we* don't feel lonely—but what about them? Does the person suffering really want that life, where the pain drains both their soul and their body? Who is that "other" person in this equation? To us, it feels like having them by our side makes us feel better, regardless of their struggle. Where did our humanity, our empathy, and our faith go—the belief that there is something better out there and that this life is just a bridge? As long as they are breathing, we have to be their rock, but when that final moment comes... we have to let them go peacefully. They’ve earned it.
I remember my mother telling me about how her brother passed away from a brain tumor back in 1971—my grandmother was absolutely devastated, just grieving by his grave for months on end. Then, one day, she had this strange dream where she saw a group of young men walking peacefully through a beautiful, vast landscape, but my late uncle was struggling, carrying these incredibly heavy buckets filled with water. He looked at her and said, "Mom, those are your tears; you aren't letting me rest in peace..." After that, Grandma finally found a way to start living again.
God isn't merciless—He always does what’s best for us and our loved ones, even when we can't quite wrap our heads around it...
Zeljko, God be with you.
You have no idea how much your words have truly helped me—honestly, I can't thank you enough.
I remember when my dearest one asked me why I was being so down—I told her it was just because I was worried about her—and she just gave me that classic, half-sarcastic little smile of hers:
And why are you even worrying?? Are you actually afraid I’m going to kick the bucket??
Mom, I’ve already passed away.
Nothing worse could possibly happen to me—honestly.
Shortly after that, she passed away.