I was off for Rosh Hashanah, yesterday. Sarah Wildman marked the day with a must-read essay in the NYT (Gift Article): I Don’t Need My Life to Be Remarkable. “Orli’s recovery from brain surgery was rapid. Two weeks after she was released, she was on a bicycle in Menemsha on Martha’s Vineyard, at a friend’s borrowed home, an unchanged 1920s clapboard house that offered a glimpse of the sea, a breeze off the water. She began reading like she had never read before, swallowing books whole; she got on a surfboard again. Each of those precious days was, indeed, a 10, but it was the fours and fives I began to crave: just lying on her bed, talking, watching her eat pasta and ask for more, seeing her swim. Even the ones and twos — when our car broke down and we needed to find a tow truck off island — felt like wins. What is a transportation problem but a manageable hassle, really? At least we were together, and not in a hospital.” And we all say, Amen.