At about 12:30 in the afternoon Swedish time, my aunt passed away battling melanoma. She was a brave soul and even during fighting her disease, she was always telling us to take care of ourselves. She loved her kids so much... and her husband loved her so much. It's not often that you come across a family so happy and affectionate... why did it this happen to her? They've never harmed anyone... they were the type of people that made their kids donate stationery to kids in orphanages. I wish it was me. I'm not doing anything useful anyway. Up until the night before her death she'd been going through hell on Earth since the past 4 days or so. She couldn't even have an IV drip or water because it was going to go into her lungs. She had to be spoon-fed water. She didn't deserve this. Neither the disease nor the suffering. Why is it that people like this always die? Why is it that kind and affectionate people that the world so desperately needs are always the ones to go first? I hate this. I hate that the first doctor didn't think to send the excess growth for a biopsy. I hate that she had to pass away. I hate that I couldn't do anything. I hate that people keep saying that sins in her past life have come back to haunt her. And I hate that I couldn't be there for at least the kids emotionally because I'm incapable of catering to people's needs. I hate the fact that I'll never see her again