I’ve been trying to write a blog post for days. I want to say this. I want to say that. And then, nope, I don’t want to say any of it.
- How is it that my dad got Alzheimer’s after taking such good care of himself? He did everything right. He devoted his entire life to fighting neurological diseases. Is there no escape?
- How can it be that a person I knew got away with murdering another person I knew? Is there no justice?
- Why did my stepbrother take his own life? I want him, and my father, back.But instead, the same thing that happened to them keeps happening to other people. Is there no redemption, no mercy, no hope?
- Why did my maternal grandmother die at the same time I was being born? Irony? Cruelty? Inevitability?
Tolstoy asked, of the social conditions in 1880’s Russia, “What then must we do?”
I don’t know. Do you?
The only antidote I can think of is love. Kindness. Forgiveness. Be the god you need for others in need.