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I bumped into an acquaintance yesterday. We chatted for a bit. He told me about the passing of his father-in-law. Said his wife is having a hard time coping with it. 

He too was pretty fired up. Was blaming the doctors, the nurses, the treatments, the medication, the hospital, the works. 

He was looking for something or someone to blame. His grieve blindsided him. 

I asked him, "Why do humans like to question things when anything unpleasant happens to them? They will look everywhere for reasons why shit happens to them. And they won't rest until they find an answer or a theory that satisfies them. Why?"

"But if something good were to happen to that same person, does he even think to ask, 'why me?'...?"

He looked at me and smiled. "No, he wouldn't ask why." 

With that, he nodded his head at me, started his bike and rode off.