Part of my son's training to be a pilot involved a simulator. Students are thrust into circumstances that demand a response, and clear thinking. 

One of the scenarios was about communicating with your copilot. The goal was to work as a team, in a way that faces the problem head on. Micah assured me that it didn't matter if the plane crashed. The evaluators were paying attention to cooperation and good listening, and it was secondary whether they succeeded. 

How about that. 

My mind reeled back to dilemmas in our marriage and parenting. There were times when I acted as if the highest goal was getting the house ready for company. It did not matter if I steam rolled over the kids to get there. I regret that. In recent years I have tried to prioritize working with my family, rather than in spite of them. 

When I think about the medical fiascos, what reverberates years later is how John and I talked about the possibilities, and acted in sync. Even those decisions that fall under a heading of "mistakes" have contributed to our partnership. 
 

I have an inkling that these dramas are largely distractions from the Real Job, which rests solely in how we treat the people we love.