Once, a few years ago, I held a tiny, sick boy down while somebody just out of nursing school tried to draw blood for a test. This child was eighteen months old, and basically pre-verbal. I had known him only three days. He had no idea who I was.

That same day we had pediatric x-rays, other blood drawn, multiple shots, and breathing treatments, all in our many hours in the ER before they finally admitted him to the hospital with pneumonia. It was one of the longest days of my short forty years on this planet.

Today, he’s a happy, mostly well-adjusted five and a half year old boy, and I’m proud to say he is my son, and we’re all fine.

Today, Mir had to go through something worse. Thankfully, it looks like everyone will be fine over there, too.