As boatloads of money continued to pour in following the death of his loved one, he stopped to reflect for a moment on the irony and incongruity of being gifted with money as some sort of feeble, hapless surrogate to offset his indescribable loss. People closest to him were attempting to crudely countermand the priceless gift of life which had just been snatched away from him in an extraordinarily cruel and unexpected fashion, but their gambit wasn’t working; it wasn’t working at all. But that should come as no surprise. Obviously cash offerings weren’t working; obviously their well-intentioned gesture wasn’t gaining traction and never would; obviously this stratagem was condemned to fail, and fail badly. Money is no proxy for life and never will be, and they of all people should know that. Money is man-made while consciousness is divine; the two reside on opposite ends of the intrinsic value spectrum and are not fungible in any way, shape, or form. To even suggest otherwise, however unintentionally and with benevolence as the admitted driving factor, was little different than rubbing a tub of salt into his deeply felt wounds.
Fred's Soapbox 