The world has misfortunes, yes. But it's also full of good stuff. Your old man went out surrounded with love and light. They say that hearing is the last thing to go as we enter the other side, so he left with the sound of laughter, stories of how much he was loved, whispers of how much he meant and how hard it will be without him. Small solace in the now, I know, in the immediate aftermath of the disaster nobody wants to hear 'well, it could have been worse'.
But, remember that all this pain, rage, sadness, are all just outlets for the love you feel because the physical part of it is now gone, and all of it, from all of those people is... How do I say this?
It's a measure of the unmeasurable. This many people felt this strongly. Loved this much. Touched this many lives positively.
If this is no comfort in the storm, look then to the swamp. When men like LFJ go, it will be a slow, agonized death, clinging bitterly to what moments all the miracles of modern science can afford a rich man, but completely devoid of meaning, warmth or worth. Alone. The click of machines. No visitors save for a mentally deranged people acting like a snake, if even he decides to go. No stories of how much good he did, no weeping family because he destroyed it in his quest for feeling and purpose.
LFJ might have money, but your father is richer by magnitudes of order.
they said the anesthesia wouldn't make me loopy but it did
