“Laws of nature do not make exceptions for nice people. A bullet has no conscience; neither does a malignant tumor or an automobile gone out of control. That is why good people get sick and get hurt as much as anyone.”
~ Harold S. Kushner
This weekend, I received news that stopped me in my tracks—a distant cousin, with whom I shared the hazy, sunlit days of childhood in our great-grandmother's courtyard, was tragically murdered. We weren't inseparably close, but our early memories are intertwined with shared laughter and endless summer days, before life inevitably ushered us down separate paths. It's been years, lifetimes it seems, since we last spoke, but the sudden, brutal end to her journey has left me wrestling with a disquieting question: "Why not me?"
The question isn’t new. It surfaces time and again when I hear of someone—seemingly more deserving, more essential—facing a tragic fate. It’s not a wish for harm upon myself, but rather a grappling with the harsh arbitrariness of life and death. Why her, this sweet girl who once played beside me, whose laughter once echoed against the same walls as mine? Why not me, who has lived a life so parallel, yet so diverged?
Reflecting on those childhood days, the innocence and the shared joy, heightens the poignancy of her untimely death. My cousin, who grew from those childhood games to presumably touch lives, inspire love, and make impactful contributions to her corner of the world, was snatched from life’s embrace. This loss forces me to confront a jarring reality—our origins do not dictate our endings, and life does not weigh our worthiness for survival.
The question, "Why not me?" does more than stir guilt or sorrow. It challenges me to consider the value and impact of my own life. It’s a stark reminder of our shared mortality and the randomness with which tragedy can strike, leaving us to find meaning in the aftermath.
Perhaps, this haunting inquiry serves a deeper purpose. It compels us to live deliberately, to cherish the connections we make, and to strive to leave a positive imprint on the world. Each day is a gift not guaranteed to anyone, and this realization should drive us to live with kindness, purpose, and gratitude.
In remembering my cousin, in reflecting on the sudden severing of a life once so closely aligned with my own childhood, I am reminded of the delicate threads that bind us all. "Why not me?" is not simply a question of survival but a call to live fully, to honor those lost by embracing the life we continue to have. It underscores a shared human vulnerability and invites us to be more compassionate, more empathetic, and more connected to one another.
Life does not offer us the comfort of understanding why some stories end too soon. Yet, in living with this question, we find a powerful way to respect the fragility of existence and to appreciate the profound, unpredictable journey of life.
