A friend’s stepson passed away this week. He was 37. He was morbidly obese and died from complications of his obesity. Over the years, she had lamented how his issues caused so much pain for her husband and for her. His financial dependence on his family, his emotional abuse, to himself and others, his continuing self-destructive path, all caused deep rifts between him and his family. But he was still their son. And his loss brings grief, pain, regret. Then, out of the blue, his father starts getting emails from his son’s classmates and teachers. You see, he had gone back to school. And unbeknownst to his family, he wanted to be a psychologist. Perhaps he felt he could someday draw on his own pain to help others. Every single email said the same thing. How nice he was. How empathetic, and helpful, and wonderful. His father showed us the emails when we paid a shivah call. And with tears in his eyes, he smiled and said, “I never knew this side of him”. What a gift. To know that every dark side has a light side. Every down, an up, every grief, a bit of joy. Every piece of broken glass becomes something new, something cracked, but whole.