PS

I realize I should be down on my knees with gratitude that my Beloved Dad made it through his surgery and recovery with flying colors. Please do not misunderstand; I AM down on my knees with gratitude over my Beloved Dad flying (albeit with a walker) colorfully through his major surgery and excruciating recovery.

But, at the same time, I am down on my knees in despair over what it cost both of us.  I can't remember ever being so joyful and so desolate at the same time.  And sooooo guilty that my Dad's restoration is not enough to keep me from crying over the turned cups. 

It's the dichotomy that is slowly driving me insane.