I need to dream. I need to believe. I need to know that I have some control in my life. That if I work hard, that I will be rewarded. That life is not arbitrary. I need to believe that bad things happen to good people, for a greater reason. That dedication, sacrifice, hard work, discipline are all worthy attributes that will eventually produce extraordinary results. That if I live a certain lifestyle, that my family will be better for that. That there is a direct link between my actions and my results. That If I prepare properly that I can face the insurmountable foe and look him in the eye, knowing that I have defeated death.
Sometimes events that lead him bereft of anything but grief just happen for no reason other than happenstance. A car turns left instead of right, a train is missed, a call comes too late. Then the real test of his humanness becomes front and center. Is he able to, in light of that knowledge, ever to recover? When he again finds his way despite the inability to manufacture a deeper meaning in his suffering? When he is able to march forward, with no grand design that would explain why the universe tore him asunder? That's when he can say, that he's finally grown up.
