All throughout today, I kept thinking about how Eazy-E died. I don't know why his death was on my mind today in particular. He died in 1995.
If you don't know who Eazy-E was you can read a bit about his life here. He was an incredibly gifted rapper who rapped about what he knew best: dealing drugs, gang violence, and lonely sex.*
In February 1995, he went to the doctor because he hadn't been feeling well for a while. He thought it was asthma. It turned out to be AIDS. Not HIV. Full-blown AIDS. He died a month later. He was 31.
The more I think about it, the sadder it makes me. Not only that he died of a horrible disease at a time where no long-term treatment existed, but also that he had such a destructive relationship with his body that he didn't realize how sick he was until it was too late. He had such a sad, short life.
I like to think about Jesus hanging out with Eazy and Tupac and Notorious B.I.G. in Heaven. I think they would all have a good time. It's a lot less satisfying to picture Him with Abraham, Isaac, or Jacob. They had their turn earlier, right?
*I might be projecting there. But it always sounded lonely to me.