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As a writer, you want to deliver answers to your readers, especially on major stories.  You want to somehow explain things in a way that makes sense somehow.  You want to provide some closure to your readers, to ponder what could have been done to prevent these terrible things from happening and to rant and rave about how things should change now that they have taken place.

You want to separate yourself from how you feel, in pursuit of the greater good and the truth and all those other ideals that you hope on your best day you can somehow uphold, even if you are writing about a universe where guys dress in tights and pretend to beat each other up.

You want to write about the careers of someone who was once the measuring stick of what a great professional wrestler was and someone who was the measuring stick of sexiness for pro wrestling fans.

But, you can't.  Not if you are me.

I've sat here for a long time trying to figure out what to write, because you have to write something to mark the worst thing that's ever happened in wrestling - but the reality is, for me, I don't have know what to write.  I don't have the answers.  I can't fathom what went on inside the mind of Chris Benoit that weekend and part of me would be scared if I was ever truly able to understand.

None of us can change what happened a year ago.  Some of us will debate it and offer conspiracy theories of who and what was truly responsible.  Some of us will move on and still watch the performers without caring about the people who were behind them.  Some of us will remain steadfast in our disgust and never watch another Chris Benoit bout ever again.  No matter what we do, none of us can change what happened.

So, I don't offer blame or theories or calls for change today.  There have been other articles that have and will do such a thing until the end of the existence of professional wrestling.  

Instead, I just offer sadness for the most innocent of those who perished over that sad weekend.

Three people died that weekend and the most innocent of them was Daniel Benoit, who never had a chance to have a life, to dream, to live.  When I think of that weekend, I feel extreme sadness for that young little boy.  So, if you want to remember someone today, remember Daniel.

I don't know what to write but I certainly know what I want in life and that's for there to never, ever be another Daniel Benoit, anywhere in this world.   Obviously, that's a naive hope, because we cannot prevent every tragedy.  We cannot save everyone.  We can, however, try to educate ourselves.  We can watch for signs and when we question to ourselves that perhaps something is wrong, we can have the courage to care enough to find out.

Perhaps by caring about someone beyond ourselves, even in the jaded world we live in today, we can make the difference for someone like Daniel Benoit.   The Benoit tragedy is complex, depressing, tragic, overwhelming situation but nothing is more tragic than the death of that young boy.  We'll never know what, if anything could have been done to help Daniel Benoit.  Perhaps there were no signs, as many claim, but we'll never know for sure.

There is nothing that could have been done.  It's too late for Daniel, but there are far too many others who might be within help's reach. 

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The official website for the Nancy and Daniel Benoit Foundation can be found at http://www.ndbfoundation.org/.