I saw parts of myself I liked, and those I don't. I cried repeatedly. I'm thankful for those who have come before me, and those who came before that. Sometimes holding light in the dark isn't because we will find a way out, sometimes it's enough to call it what it is.

My one gripe is I would have liked a slightly different ending, but I'm not sure that's fair. It's nonfiction, and there certainly was no ideal treatment at the time of publication, and there isn't now.