Tragedy

After my own challenging youth followed by years of walking with dozens of other youths and their families through their enormous challenges, more personal drama and now accepting the fact that my husband has a dangerous job that keeps him far away for large chunks of time, I'm finding I don't react to news of tragedy like I used to.  Like a normal person does.  There's very little that can devastate me at this point, or make me feel a sense of personal loss.  I prefer to think it's because I'm growing fearless, rather than numb.  


If it were numbness, then I suppose I wouldn't feel this sense of compassion and grace for those who are afraid and grieving.  But the catch is that I have to realize how serious things are and convey that I know this, instead of coming across as flippant or detached.  The serene look on my face when you tell me that the next door neighbor died does not mean I am detached.  It means I know that he was very old and did a lot more surviving than dying.