One day long, long ago my grandmother (maternal) thought it would be fun to race stock cars. She was terribly young and had 5 children. A little excitement seemed just the ticket.
Her first time around the track, she had an accident and became paralyzed from her waist down. Living in a small town at the time there was, naturally, an article in the local paper about it. When we were kids we used to steal her wheelchair every morning to have races.
One day long, long ago my grandfather (maternal) went hunting in the mountains of Idaho. His friends went back to camp and he decided to go over one more hill. They never found him or any trace of him.
One day, a little less long ago, my mother's cousin and her children disappeared. They were featured on Hard Copy (does anyone remember that show?) when her husband stopped paying the bill on his storage unit several years later.
One day, even less long ago, another cousin died in a plane crash (Have I ever mentioned how much I hate flying?) during a lesson. She had always wanted to be a pilot.
One day, still less long ago, my mother died in a freak accident that could not possibly happen again even if the situation was repeated a hundred times.
I know that breast cancer runs in my family. I know I have to watch my cholesterol.
I'm more afraid of the piano that is bound to fall on my head and kill me.