My father would, on occasion, mention that if he had not married, or had children, he would not have had to experience the pain of losing dear children or seeing them riddled with health disorders. Life without emotional grief would be "easier" and more stable, yet to shelter ones self from close relationships would also be an enormous deprivation; love is the foremost joy of living, and it cannot grow through alienation from society. Even the smallest pleasures seem more meaningful when they are shared, while the tragic moments are buffered by love. To separate ones self from affection for others denies a virtuous human potential to develop, as it simultaneously creates more emptiness than that which occurs upon the death of a loved one; the grief-stricken survivor has memories, but the emotional hermit has only stability. There was indeed, a sacrifice for love. It was one that my dad was willing to take. In one of our conversations, I once asked my father if he thought he had basically accepted my health disorder. He replied, "I don"t think I will ever accept it, because it's not acceptable." For his part, maybe he just lives with it. What other choice does one have, excluding madness or suicide, but to live with it? (It just doesn't mean that he has to like it!) Guilt very often accompanies the illness or death of a loved one, and can be released through conversation. The unfounded sort, stemming from regrets such as a patient's unfulfilled dream which the relative felt he impeded, or a mother's inability to detect subtle changes in her child's health, is a counterproductive, if not debilitating, manner of reacting to the problem. These emotions are quite corrosive to the individual, and it is important that they are quickly corrected; this can be done through attentive listening and positive reinforcement.