Don’t Ask, “Why?”

Over a decade ago, after undergoing life-saving surgery, I was given the worse news (Yes, that news). And if that wasn’t bad enough, a surgical “mishap” left me unable to walk or stand.

As I struggled to take my first post-op steps and to plan my next steps, I spoke with a longtime family friend who was once hit with her own health struggles — first kidney failure and later a brain tumor. 

She had survived both having received a kidney from a generous unknown donor and the tumor removed with no lasting effects. 

Much was said during our conversation, the details of which I don’t remember save these words, “Don’t ask ‘Why?”.

Don’t ask, “Why?”

I have to admit, I didn’t ask why I shouldn’t ask, “Why?” Nor did I always follow her advice.

When my sister’s coworker’s 8-year old daughter died of a cancer that ravaged her body so suddenly that my heart filled with survivor’s guilt, I asked , “Why?” 

The “Why?” didn’t return her to her earthly home nor did it assuage my guilt.

Don’t ask, “Why?”

When I heard the news of the death of 25-year-old Minnesota Vikings wide receiver Rondale Moore, who according to police report took his own life, I was tempted once again to ask “Why?”

I was at the last professional football game Rondale played. The promising young athlete sustained a season-ending injury in the Vikings first preseason game — his first in a Vikings uniform. 

As he was transported off the field, he pounded is fists on the cart in frustration,  the sound ringing throughout US Bank Stadium.

I can imagine there were many times that Rondale asked, “Why?” 

“Why now?” Why again? “Why me?”

Why was he the victim of two preseason, season-ending injuries in back-to-back years — first with the Atlanta Falcons and most recently the Minnesota Vikings?

Don’t ask, “Why?”

Perhaps the “Why?” he struggled with the most was “Why am I still here?”

And he answered that, “Why?” with his very life. 

Don’t ask, “Why?”

As for me, I can say time may not heal all wounds, but it does some. I’m not only able to walk but to run — training now for my seventh 5K race. 

I wish that Rondale had given himself the chance to finish his race.  Sadly, he saw the starting gate as the finish line. 

Don’t ask, “Why?”