So Much Promise

I read an obituary today of a local young man that made me sad. He was a 20-year-old pre-med at Harvard, and an only child. He died after a foot-race.

(http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/08303/923550-122.stm)

It struck me at several levels.

• He reminded me of me. While I am not as superbly accomplished as he was, the description of his brief life sounded very similar to my early life. Full of academics, music, community service, sports -- excellence was expected of my performance in all spheres. Such is the fate of only childs of high-achieving immigrant parents. The parental pride is overwhelming, as is the pressure. As an older child, I sometimes thought about would happen if I died. I was the center of my parents' world. They would have been utterly devastated.

• After immense struggle, I will probably be the mother of only one child myself. When you invest so much of yourself to the process, the loss of potential life is heartbreaking. And when all your eggs are in one basket, you nurture and protect that basket with everything you've got. Only some things you can't control or protect against. I can only imagine the depth of grief and pain this young man's parents are experiencing.

• It brought to mind a classmate who died not long after med school. Because of the alphabet, we sat together the first day of class, and walked in line together at graduation. Anthony Skedros was in my anatomy group, and he was my friend. He was everybody's friend. Anthony was like a Greek god -- gorgeously handsome, smart, athletic, gregarious and popular. During his emergency medicine residency in Minnesota, he collapsed after playing a basketball game. Some unforeseen cardiac issue, I was told.

The death of so much promise. It keeps me ever mindful "for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee."