Four Weekends and a Funeral

by Ellie Palmer

Are you responsible for teaching a workaholic woman the true meaning of Christmas or is that a different grumpy carpenter? Do you guys work in shifts?”

“Skydiving is ridiculous. Why would I voluntarily participate in a flight’s worst-case scenario? If you’re not exiting a plane on the ground, something’s gone horribly wrong.”

“A life-altering diagnosis should alter you. I shouldn’t go ‘back to normal’ after this. I have to make my life mean something.”

“You’re kind of my favorite new person, if that’s not too weird a thing to say.”

“I imagine your every detail. Constantly. God, imagine the things I could accomplish if I could think about anything other than you: my favorite person.”

“But I’m grateful I got to spend this time with you, Alison. When I first saw you last month, a part of me knew we’d be here right now.”

“Because I was asleep—in this walking, talking, waking coma. And now I’m awake. You woke me up.”

But you know what was so much more terrifying than owing a debt to the universe? Realizing it’s all random. And that’s the truth, there’s nothing to pay or prove. We’re all just living.”

“You don’t need to prove you deserve your life to me or anyone. You deserve it, because everyone does. When they die or get sick or have to get a mastectomy, it’s not because they deserve it. It’s not fair, and it’s random. There’s nothing we can do other than live how we want to live.”

“How am I supposed to know if any time is a good time for anything? Does anyone? You just have to make the choices that feel true to the life you want and hope like hell it will all work out.”