Murdering hands, dead acquaintances, broken logic

Countless times I have touched someone and they ended up dead just a few days or even hours later. Some were dear friends, others I had just met.

Then there is my mother, my father, my father’s brother, a close neighbor and friend–all four of these I was with either the day they died or saw shortly before.

There are the people I know who have become sick after meeting me. Strokes and heart attacks, cancers and kidney problems, colds and flu. They follow in my wake.

Furthermore, tragic traffic accidents have happened in places that I myself had traveled not too long before. Murders and suicides have taken place in the town I used to live in, touching people I know.

Clearly, I am a serial murderess, a modern day Bloody Mary (my first name is Mary after all), a carrier of infections of all sorts.

Or . . . I am an older human being with a wide circle of friends and acquaintances, with a professional past that put me in touch with a lot if ill and elderly people, and one who also has traveled extensively.

I am as guilty of those murders as is presidential candidate Clinton, who has been accused of being a murderess because so many her acquaintances have ended up dying.

That’s thoughtful logic for today. That’s “because this happened after that, this must have caused that” thinking that permeate much paranoid political thought and discourse now.

That’s sad.