Has to land on somebody

As I sit here pondering the latest turn of events in my life, a line from a movie comes to me. It's somewhat poetic that this dialogue from my favorite movie should come to me at a time like this, and be so utterly appropriate. "Bad luck?" "Yeah. It floats around. Has to land on somebody." What a succinct way of summing things up. It has to land on somebody. In the movie, this exchange occurs between two imprisoned murderers, one of whom was wrongly accused and convicted. The one responds to the other with incredulity that he would describe such a miscarriage of justice as mere "bad luck." My problems will likely never be on par with wrongful imprisonment for double homicide. But I suppose it was rather naive of me to think I would never be the person on whom bad luck happened to land. It's like that. Shapeless. Ephemeral. And utterly indiscriminate. Now that it has descended, I'm at a loss for what to do with it. I would really like to gloss over the first four stages of grief and get right to acceptance, but that is just not happening. When the news first broke, I fully indulged my denial. I used humor to deflect and cold analytical thinking to rationalize and reassure myself. Now I seem to be hung up on anger. Things like this happen to other people. We were doing everything right; how could this happen to us? And how dare you, fate? How dare you screw up my perfectly ordered existence like this? Part of me clings to the belief that things will be okay. Things always work out for the best, don't they? Everything happens for a reason, and all that? I guess we'll find out soon enough.