I’ve always been sympathetic to people who have suffered tragedies. A word and a touch can mean so much to those who have lost a loved one.
I’m learning now it can also be uncomfortable. My wife was killed in a hit and run five days ago, and here I stand in this crowded funeral home, getting hugs and condolences from friends and family.
My wife’s brother says, tearfully, “I hope they find the bastard that did this real soon.”
I say, also tearfully, “I know, man. I hope so too.”
Inside, I am thinking, I sure as hell hope not.