It must be the week for it.
The day after the funeral we got a phone call from my in-laws. A friend of the family had lost his battle with cancer and had passed away. Just a few weeks ago he had been given several months to live, then just a handful of weeks. Apparently, the cancer had been even worse than they thought, because he didn't make it two weeks after the doctor's gave him their prognosis.
That's two for three...and I really hate that death seems to visit in a threesome. It scares the crap out of me.