I can’t stop thinking about the plane crash in the French Alps – the frantic attempt to break into the cockpit, the screaming passengers, the 8-minute descent to their death. What is it like to know you are going to die that soon, that quickly? Prayers? Probably. Closing your eyes and just meditate. What would I do? What if my daughter were with me? I would hold her hand and tell her that it will be ok, that we will be together forever. I would tell her to think of nonna and nonno, of Gianfranco, of grandma and grandpa. I can’t imagine, really. What would anyone do? What were those sixteen teenagers thinking? It’s so hard to imagine what is unthinkable. And then I think about all the terrible tragedies that happen every day all over the world. There are worse things. I think of those hundreds of school girls abducted in Africa last year, girls whose parents still don’t know what happened to their children – were they sold? Are they enslaved? Are they alive? Are they suffering terribly? Why is it that one tragedy leads you to think about other horrible tragedies? Somehow I can’t feel grateful for what I have. I mean, I am grateful, but I am also angry about the unfairness of it all. About the chance that life is. Being born here and not there. Being born free and safe. And still, the chance that all can be lost in no time. I guess the answer must be acceptance – acceptance that life is unfair, that life is fleeting and so is happiness, acceptance of the fact that everything is temporary and we must treasure the moments we have. Why did I get mad at my husband for yelling at our dog? It was just an irrational moment, he did not hurt the dog, he was just annoyed by him. Acceptance of our own faults, because those too are part of life, and if we could appreciate every moment, then we would not be human, humans are not perfect. So, acceptance I guess is the answer.