Dying Too Young

It seems the news is filled with stories of teenagers and young children being killed in accidents, and sometimes on purpose. If these things happened in my youth, I was insulated from it. There was the boy in my class in high school who was killed in a car wreck over Thanksgiving. Another one in my sister’s class died in a wreck on prom night. So maybe I wasn’t so insulated after all. I remember being devastated by both deaths. Kids in high school are too young to die – or should be.

I was just looking at the news stories on Yahoo. Oh, no, there’s five teenagers killed in a fiery crash. I could not read it. I tried. I’m finding that to be true more and more as I age. It doesn’t matter if speed or alcohol were involved – they should still be alive. Or that’s my opinion. Two of them were sisters. I have three sons. To lose two at the time . . . it’s unthinkable. Inconsolable. I cannot imagine the grief.

I’ve been told I’m too emotional. I think as I age, it’s getting worse. Hearing about strangers being hurt, abandoned, killed . . . it’s too much.

There are few happy stories in the news. I am going to look at only those from now on. I cannot change what has happened. What was that old saying that the TV newscasters used? When you hear it, it’s news; when you read about it, it’s history.

It’s too much. Baby found in a sewer pipe in China. That was another sad story I read yesterday and scanned today.

Where is the beauty? Maybe that’s why older women like flowers and plant them and tend to them. It’s a way to put a little beauty back into the world.


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