thinking about ed

I used to call my wife and her sisters the Four Sisters of the Apocalypse. A joke, of course. Sure they were four very definite women of Scottish-Irish descent—that tells you a lot. That gave their four husbands a kind of collegiality in my mind.
Now, just as there are only three sisters of the Apocalypse, so also are there only three husbands: Ed has left. He didn't exactly want to go, and certainly none of us wanted him to go; but a certain cancer took to partying in his innards, and sent him packing. It doesn't seem right that some of us can entertain the cancer party and still hang around, but that's the way it is.

"thinking about ed" is a little bit of my story with ed.