“Why do bad things happen to good people?”
It’s an age-old question. One that I have always had difficulty―almost impossibility―in answering when asked by my friends and family about my wife’s breast cancer diagnosis in 2014 at the incomprehensible age of 30.
She was 30.
How can anyone make sense of it, right? Certainly not I.
That is, up until this past Tuesday morning at 1 a.m. when Jillian Grace Giardullo passed away at the age of 32.
Over the past several weeks and months, I searched endlessly for clarity on why her, why us―why now, in between bouts of anger, prayers, depression, and tears.
Over the past several weeks and months, I searched endlessly for clarity on why her, why us―why now, in between bouts of anger, prayers, depression, and tears.
If you were one of the fortunate ones (and there are hundreds of them) to have known Jill personally or professionally, you knew that she was beyond special; an absolute infectious personality, full of energy and life.
I know that all sounds very trite, but those were the very characteristics that led me (and many other friends and family members over the course of her lifetime) to fall in love with her.
There was simply something about her that made people not only want to be around her, but get to know her more and more and more.
You see, she was the first one to get to the party, and the last one to leave.
Always.
If she just worked a twelve-hour nurse shift―which she absolutely busted her ass at becoming and loved practicing―and you asked her to dinner right after, she’d be waiting for you in just ten minutes flat, still in scrubs, glass of white wine in hand.
That’s simply how she lived her life; appreciative of the moment, thankful for the day—whether that day was before or after her cancer diagnosis.
But if you did know Jill, one thing she did change as result of her untimely death— and one of the biggest impacts she will leave on this world―is YOUR outlook on life. And the next person's outlook on life. And the next. And his. And hers. And hundreds and hundreds of others after that.
One of the most touching lines from her will reads, “I regret nothing in life. I lived a perfect life. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
Put it this way: If really bad things happened to really shitty people, who would truly care? Nobody. Literally, not one tear shed. Today alone, there wouldn't be hundreds of social media posts about Jill's selflessness, beauty, caring, and amazing aura.
Nobody would come to learn anything about this thing called life.
The bottom line is this: appreciate more, complain less. Again, that might sound very trite, but when it comes to understanding why bad things happen to good people, you come, finally, to the realization that it is quite beyond comprehension and, ultimately, empty.
Not everything happens for a reason, so we find or make our own meaning in everything that happens.
If really bad things happened to really shitty people, who would truly care? Nobody. Literally, not one tear shed. Today alone, there wouldn't be hundreds of social media posts about Jill's selflessness, beauty, caring, and aura.
And in that, I realized Jillian was too good for this world. As the great Billy Joel once sang, "Only the Good Die Young..." and my wife was the best.
So, look for small lessons. You look for anything you know. Anything that’s touched you. Any moment of grace where you can understand not why you are still here, but to find meaning and joy and beauty and laughter in every moment you have.
Through her death, she has and will continue to change more lives than most can ever think or even comprehend in ten lifetimes.
My wife, a modern day martyr. I only wish I realized it sooner than today. Now may you rest in peace, my love.
Jillian Grace's mass is scheduled for 10:30 a.m. on Friday, September 23rd at Saint Clare's Church in the Bronx. She will be laid to rest at Gate Of Heaven Cemetery, in Hawthorne, NY. The family will be present Thursday, September 22nd from 2 p.m. - 4 p.m. and 6 p.m. - 9 p.m. at Ruggerio & Sons in Yonkers. For more details, click here.