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The above quotation, from a man in Guatemala who had his wife and children killed during the civil war there, broke my heart while I was driving today – perhaps especially because it was in translation from Spanish, and I was moved by how such a cliche about grief could be transformed with an unexpected addition. (I once was proud of myself for writing the line, “My mind scrambled. Like an egg.”)

Today, I’m again powerfully reminded of the ways that emotions won’t let us go until we let them take us.

I haven’t listened myself yet, but this story – of the one surviving son of this man, unknowingly raised from infancy by the lieutenant who carried out the slaughter – is on This American Life.