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    I got straight to the point, and asked her if she could replace me, as I had to leave early.

"What's wrong?"
"My brother in law was...assassinated."
"What?"

I tried to repeat those words, but they were swallowed up in one enormous sob. By now, I was ready to be marched to the gallows. I just couldn't talk, so I grunted; it came out a bit like a Frankie Vallie falsetto note. I was now completely unscrewed, and crying far harder than I wanted to in this place. I wanted to be anywhere...but there.

"All right...I'll try to get somebody in."

I hung up, and attempted to regain my composure. Slowly, it came back, to a certain degree. I was reeling from the shock of the conversation I had just had with my wife...before calling my boss. My wife...she didn't cry, but I couldn't be convinced that she wasn't feeling something. I glanced at the clock, and swore under my breath. 8 P.M....time for the meds. The parade of women was about to begin anytime now. A few minutes later, the phone rang again. It was my boss, the on-call.

"How did it happen?" She was plainly shaken as well. After all, I had given one dozy of a piece of news.
"I'm not sure yet...my wife didn't have any details."
"He was killed?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry...I'm very sorry."

By now, one of the residents had come in for their medicine. She was now privy to the conversation we were having on the phone, and she asked me what happened, as soon as I hung up...

"Your brother in law was killed?"
"Yes, he was."
"I'm sorry to hear this."
"Thank you."

I was feeling really sick again. This was like having a fight with the ghost of Jack Dempsey; every bit as real, and every bit as painful as a real workover in a boxing ring. I gave out her medicines, taking longer then usual. Hell; I needed to take my time, least I commit a major blunder with the medication and overdose the woman. I was completely out of commission. I was running out a miracle at that point; even the fumes were gone from the gas tank. Were anyone else present with me, they would have been the ones giving out the medications at that time; I would have retired from the activity for the rest of the night. Face it...were anyone else present with me at that time, I would have been out of that house so fast, I would have called the on-call from home to explain the situation...and not have cared if I had been fired for dereliction of duty at that point.

Here it was, Thankgiving eve, and we were getting our first news of this. This was worse then obscene. Somehow, this wasn't the kind of news one is supposed to get on Thanksgiving. The holidays seem to stink badly for my relatives with respect to death when it comes to the holidays. Christmas is by far the worst for one of my cousins, who lost her husband in a car accident 4 days before Christmas. I guess for me and my wife, it's now Thanksgiving that has a special curse to it.

Eventually, all the residents came for their medications. I told only one other person about what I had just heard from my wife; she gave me her condolences.

I was left alone in the office, to go over my wife's conversation...and figure out how I was going to send her home, to Cavite in the Philippines; knowing full well it wouldn't happen anytime soon, and not anytime near when the funeral would most certainly take place. Still...I got to it.

                                        *******

All the pain of this is fresh, still...3 weeks after the fact, writing about this, on this page, in this medium. I privately wonder...does this ever go away? I used to wonder why my wife talked about her father as if he were a God. I'm almost convinced now that it's because of the shock. Your loved one is pulled away from you, in a senseless moment of violence, culminating in death. How do you deal with such an occurrence? I'm not sure how you do...effectively.