So . . .

Sometimes people are afraid to say what they think. Because of who they are, what they know, what they should think, how their words affect other people.

Obviously, that sentence is preamble to my saying something. Here it is.

Death stinks. I mean, it really stinks. From here, what I see is that there is no going back on it. Lots of other things you can fix, at least work on. Not death.

When it happens, it's done, and there you are. Left. So, deal with it, as they say, and you do in whatever ways you have. You try this and that. Sometimes this works, sometimes that, sometimes nothing helps you deal with it.

And, obviously, nothing changes it. What you're really working on is you, of course, the new--not the right word for it--and unknown you.

And you are sure people get sick of you feeling sad and sorry.

So . . . Tough.