Life happens the wrong way round.
If life happened the right way round, I would have remembered my cat Piglet for all my life, ever since my old age. Today would have been a special day that I had looked forward to all that time, and I would have watched in joy as the vet drew the massive dose of anaesthetic out of her little paw, replaced the fur where the needle had gone in, and presented her back to me with a smile.
I would have taken her home, laughing. The first couple of days would have been a bit unpleasant, as she bled from her mouth within minutes of getting back from the vet, and was sick with blood last night, but I would have known that the cancer would slowly shrink and disappear over the following months, until she was right as rain and the discomfort gone. She would still have been quite old, but I could have watched in pleasure as, with passing months and years, she moved more and more freely, growing younger and more kittenish, healthier and stronger.
And then, one day, quite unexpectedly, she would vanish. But I would not yet have known her by then, so I
couldn't have any regrets. Not when I was busily looking forward to meeting my grandfather for the first time in only a few months.
I would have known of her for exactly the same amount of my life, but as a treat to be anticipated, and not a loss to be mourned. Not a source of tears. Not a joy gone forever.
Instead, today is the last day I will ever have stroked her or held her, and I could do nothing to save her or to make her better. And
that is why my way is better than God's.