Uncle P. watched the kids for us last weekend so that we wouldn’t have to drag the kids to a funeral service.

The service was pretty horrible. On the faces of the family was grief in the rawest form. The faces were the definition of grief. Though often a cliché, a piece of them was clearly missing. They were empty.

We got into the car and drove home, exhaling and shaking our heads. I loosened my tie.

"It’s different though," I said, in response to Susanne.

"We’ll keep Charlie healthy. We’ll keep his A1c under control. He’ll always be active."

"It’s still diabetes," Susanne said soberly.

"Type 2," I said.

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The old fable of Androcles and the Lion -- or in some versions, the Mouse and the Lion -- highlights an unusual amity between two beings who are usually considered predator and prey. In the story, the lion has been crippled by a thorn stuck in his paw which he could not reach, see, or remove. The prey, whether mouse or man, sees the problem, overcomes his fear of the predator, and offers to remove the thorn. The wound heals, and the lion is ever thankful to his unlikely physician.

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