Because sometimes, something like not-divine-intervention happens, and the world agrees that you need a boost.  Because with life comes death, but you never expect it thirty minutes after leaving a hospital room.

Because "the good die young" was just remembered.  And you know what?  Thirty-eight human years is pretty fucking young for lung cancer, too.

Because my husband was able to look at me and smile and say, "No, I still see her walking around."  Because grief is better shared.

Captain America.

/sadpost.  promise i'll have normal snark asap.