At night, he would climb up on the golden retriever and go to sleep. One day, the golden retriever just died into the sun, as graciously as he had lived. And the little black dog cried. If something goes wrong, I still yell at God. I've never been afraid to be angry with God.
Anger is usually the result of fear.
When I'm angry, I'm afraid of what's happening. I'm angry at God for letting this fearful thing become a possibility. And yet, the summer my husband was dying, and I knew he was dying, I never felt closer to God. This is something I cannot explain. It was there.