One Minute You're Here and the Next You're Gone

Having lunch with a friend I get together with around
three or four times per year, at some point he mentioned
that a good friend of his wife’s passed away a couple
of days ago. . . that she had fallen down the stairs leading
into the basement, and apparently hit her head.

“One minute you’re here and the next you’re gone!”
he said, before continuing the story.

“Seems she was going into the basement to do some laundry
when she lost her balance. Husband came home and found her
lying there at the bottom of the steps already dead. He, of course,
is in a state of shock, completely beside himself. They’d been
married for around thirty-five years. . .”

While continuing to eat lunch and talk with my friend
I imagined what it would be like to come home and find
my own wife dead on the floor. The thought of it
very much upset me, while at the same time I reflected
on the expression, “One minute you’re here and the next
you’re gone” -- something I try not to think too much about,
but always seems to be there one way or another. . .