I read about a little 3-year-old girl who was killed when a heavy security door fell on her during a crowded fundraiser at an ice cream shop. It can only be described as a freak, tragic accident. Her devastated family is left to wonder “why?” Why her? Why did she have to be in that exact spot in the moment when the door fell? And why did the door fall at all? These questions may torment them for a long time to come.

Her death is a palpable reminder that much of the time, death is very unfair.

“It isn’t fair.” This is a common refrain in many grief support group meetings. Most often, they are referring to a situation where their loved one died at the hands of someone else. For example, they were hit by a drunk driver, and the person at fault came out of it with barely a scratch.

In fact, fairness is in the eye of the beholder. And many bereaved people find themselves angry at the unfairness of the circumstances of their loved one’s death. 

I understand their pain.

Why did their mother get cancer at the young age of 45, when she had gone to great lengths to take good care of her health? Meanwhile, others seem to indulge in many vices for years on end and live well into their 90s.

Why did their brother get thrown out of the car and die when everyone else survived the crash with only cuts or broken bones?

And why was their baby stillborn after an otherwise healthy full-term pregnancy, while we hear countless stories of babies born many weeks premature who survive?

The fact is we consider death to be unfair whenever someone dies before we think it’s their time.

Try as you might, you cannot explain the unfairness away. No one who is bereaved wants to hear, “It was part of God’s plan; we are not meant to understand.” Well it wasn’t part of our plan, and it hurts like hell.

“They were in the wrong place at the wrong time,” is not only unhelpful, but some may argue insensitive. Chances are they were in the place they were supposed to be, going about their day just like the rest of us. But unlike the rest of us, the unthinkable happened. Many times death is random, unpredictable, and it isn’t fair.

Agonizing over why they died can become an insidious trap that many bereaved get stuck in.

It keeps us up at night. Some of us become a shadow of the person we once were. Continually asking why can freeze us in a state of despair or anger – or both.

Unfortunately, there is no secret cure that can be conveyed in words. We are all unique, and so is our grief. We all need to process it at our own pace and in our own way. For some it may take months; for others it may take years. And some may never stop asking why their loved one died.

For me, it came down to accepting the finality of my daughter’s death.

At 4-years-old, she drowned in our pool when no one was looking. While I knew how she died, I grappled with those questions of why.

Why did the circumstances of the day unfold as they did? What if any one of those actions or choices were different; would it have changed the outcome? Why did it have to happen to us – a loving, supportive family who took good care of each other? Was there some bigger reason that I wasn’t aware of?

The questions of “why” haunted me and took up all my energy. I read many books to try to find the answers. I asked those questions over and over during my grief counseling knowing full well there was no answer my therapist could give. But at least I said them out loud. My questions were echoed by others in the support group meetings I attended. It made me feel understood and not alone in my anguish.

Eventually, I came to the understanding that continuing to ask the questions just kept feeding the dark beast that is guilt and despair. I realized that even if I had the answers, my daughter would still be dead and the pain would remain.

So, I made the choice to stop asking why. I decided to replace it with purpose.

My daughter had died and I couldn’t change it – so what was I going to do to honor her life and memory?

I’ve heard of many wonderful ways people channel their pain into ways to honor their loved one’s memory. Others have created large foundations in their loved one’s name to help others. Still others perform small acts of kindness for strangers in honor of their loved one. I’ve heard of everything in between. In my case, I decided to create www.aliveinmemory.org to write about my grief to try to help others in theirs.

No matter what the act or activity, focusing your efforts on finding a way to honor your loved one can provide meaning for a death that appeared to have none. It can help shift our focus from despair to love; from anger to acceptance. And while it will never change the fact that their death was unfair, it can help us begin to heal.