In Threes

My family has long subscribed to the superstitious belief that bad things happen in threes.  For the most part, I find it holds true in my experience. For example, within a few days' time in 2007, I came down with shingles, my Aunt Shirley had a stroke and passed away, and my grandfather had to go to the hospital for emergency bypass surgery. One, two, three.  Two years ago, my horse, dog, and a tank full of fish all died within a week. One, two, three.
My boyfriend and some of you readers would say, "That is all just coincidence. Your brain is making connections to fit your superstition. A rule of four would work the same for you." Regardless, today was another terrible day of threes. This morning, my mom told me she got bit by a spider and now has a staph infection. One. This evening, I found out that my stepmom's father is in the hospital and likely won't make it through the night. Two. I also found out that my Uncle Gary, who has been battling cancer for months now, passed away this afternoon. Three.

Uncle Gary,
I did not know you well, but the memories I have are fond ones. I remember when I was a little girl, I came over to your house to discover one of your dogs had a huge litter of puppies.  You gave my siblings and I two of them, who turned out to be some of the best dogs I ever had.  Thank you for Wrinkles and Grins, and all the delightful moments they brought into my life.
Rest in peace, Uncle Gary. May you be forever free from the pain that has plagued you in these recent weeks.
Love,
Audrea