When something terrible does not happen, ever, I’d say we are allowed to assume it won’t happen. Sort of like if the manhole in front of my apartment suddenly blew up, I don’t think I’d blame the mom of any kid who happened to be walking by it at the time, even if the mom wasn’t right there.

When we are faced with sudden sadness, we have a few choices. We can sigh. We can pray. We can donate — for instance, to an animal sanctuary.We can commit ourselves to trying to make the world a better place, if only to feel less despair. Or we can force ourselves to understand that the incomprehensible — especially sudden death — either has a bigger meaning (it’s part of God’s plan) or it doesn’t (fate is fickle).

What is easier than all of these is to sink into the sewer of self-righteousness and pretend that if only someone had been doing what we believe WE would have done in that unpredictable situation, everything would be peachy. That way we get to feel smug AND angry — a heady combination, and the perfect kindling for a witch burning.