On the death of a 19-year old :(

"I have a sad news for you" my mother said.

I knew it had to be about somebody's unfortunate and premature death. I prepared myself for the awful news that was coming.

"You remember "M"'s grandson--the son of "S"?" she asked, not as a question but more as a preface.  By then I knew what was coming.

"He died a few days ago."

He was a kid, who was in the final year of his teenage phase of life.  A freshman at Stanford.  The cancer that he had battled against, the battle that I thought he had won a couple of years ago, had come back in a nasty manner.

After the phone call, I remembered "S" telling me a couple of years ago how this kid had taken on a couple of initiatives to spread cancer awareness and to raise funds to wipe out the dreaded "C" word.  I was confident that the newspaper I grew up with would have something about him.

The paper does have a lengthy piece on the kid's demise.

Akash Dube, a symbol of courage and resolve for so many cancer patients across the country, succumbed to the very disease earlier this month. A freshman at Stanford, this 19-year-old spent the last few months in the hospital, battling against the disease and undergoing multiple rounds of intensive chemotherapy

19!  I mean, nineteen!

Akash initiated and organized the Terry Fox runs in Chennai, and raised money for cancer research and treatment.

Akash Dube wanted to wipe out cancer. He wanted a world where no one would know of this six-letter fiend, a disease whose grip seems to only be tightening around us with each passing day. Akash envisioned a world where cancer is spoken of in the same breath as the bubonic plague and tuberculosis; as epidemics that ruined thousands of lives in the past but also as diseases that man no longer needs to be afraid of.

...

Akash Dube was a teenager, just like you and me. Yet, he fought for what he truly believed in and worked towards the greater good. He had a vision, a mission and a road map. Akash Dube taught us that no hurdle is too much to cross, no goal is too big to aspire towards and there is no such thing as overambitious.

What do you tell a mother whose son died at 19? What do you tell a 83-year old whose grandson passed away?  Life is simply cruel, sometimes.