Jacob, wrestling with the angel, while viewed by Breton maidens Paul Gauguin
Sometimes, after Sophie has a big seizure, and my back is aching from holding her and my lip is smarting from where her hand accidentally slapped it while jerking, I pray in a whisper to God. Please take these seizures from her. Make them stop. Give her -- and us -- peace. I don't feel better when I pray, though, because the thought crosses my mind that God might answer the prayer and take her from me. Perhaps that's why I endure.