I read the comments until I became uncertain anymore where one person's ended and another began both from the endless stream of words and the stream of tears that obscured my vision. Then I wrote (somehow got deleted):
I have had many opportunities to cry, trying to keep my son Segev alive for more than twelve years, but never did. Until I read your words. There you so eloquently show your fortitude and your shining love for your daughter, you show human behaviour at its most dignified.
I didn't just cry, sobs racked my body for the first time in 35 years.
Each of us carries a burden. Putting that burden into perspective is not easy. Some of us write about it, to make sense of it. And yet that horrific joke, told about doctor's, never even entering into the macabre repertoire of humor parents of extremely ill children often share, seems to find a completely sound and true resonance because of his outlook on life; "the patient died but the operation was a success", could not better describe it.
Timothy Ringgold writes about his family's journey to heal his daughter Annabella. But she passed away two days ago after 101 days in PICU. I do not know if I envy Annabella's parents for all the life that was cut short which both spared more suffering and yet ended any further experiences of love, but I certainly hope that his demeanor will somehow rub off on me, even so grizzled a veteran.