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When a friend or co-worker experiences a tragedy, my heart breaks for them and I know that nothing I say or do will make things better. Saying nothing is interpreted as ignoring their pain but my words can seem hollow and meaningless to the person who is suffering. I am not a Londoner. I don’t know anyone in London and it is extremely unlikely that I will ever have the money to even visit London. I won’t try guessing if this was done by a large hate group or London’s version of Eric Rudolph. Even if an explanation is someday given, I will never really understand why they did this. I don’t know the best way to respond despite the variety of existing and soon-to-be created funds, flags, ribbons, magnets, petitions, chain letters and other shows of support. I do know that I am supposed to live my life as though those who do evil have no control over me. I would be a liar if I said I feel no fear. There are bad people everywhere and even if my family tries to live like Anthony Edwards on Northern Exposure, there is no guarantee of safety from man or nature. Some days I just feel sad and overwhelmed by the problems in this world, country, state, city and my own home.

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