My aunt has cancer again.

I want to put this into a larger context or write something eloquent or profound, but right now, words seem immovable.

I yearn to believe otherwise--more than I can express here--but perhaps what I've believed all along is true: We leave this world with the important questions unanswered.

This is going to sound lumbering and collegiate, but maybe our divinity comes from loving ourselves and each other, reaching out to those less fortunate, and knowing we can change the world in meaningful ways. Maybe there's nobility in asking the hundredth question, when the previous ninety-nine have gone unanswered.

Maybe.

My aunt has cancer again.