As I read your short, short story (mazel tov on the transition btw) i thought you were Yaacov, only to find out it was your father… only to find out what he physically endured during his time on earth. my mom had rheumatoid arthritis for as long as I can remember, definitely effecting her in a fairly severe way by the time i was in high school. needless to say, it had meaning for me before and after i read your postscript. i was playing the perfect song to go with your piece of writing. its from a collection of beautiful hymns by labera, fiona and the city of prague philharmonic orchestra. its title… jerusalem. it was used in the movie chariots of fire quite a few years ago. sorry, the producer in me still pokes in every once and a while. hope your travels are going well. ellen