I stroke Tsiona's neck slowly as she is absorbed in her pain.

This sciatic pain leaves its trace, as she bears the next generation, the first of my grandchildren...

totally at one with her body, its pain its pathway but also so connected.

an organic union of spirit and flesh. I can relate to her and her tears, my beloved daughter, always have.

My uncle Eric (London) held me back from running amock in 1953 at my aunts wedding. I was a terror! You can see it from the black and white fotos. You see he is my hero, loving to all despite everything. Now at 80-something, he hobbles around with one gammy leg from a severe arthritic hip and or spinal stenosis. Today on the phone to Eric he has that same tone of voice telling me "Julian don't worry so much" with an "ah" that pierces me as to how similar the voice is to Tsiona's compassion.

Eric has suffered too all his life, parental rejection, BBC Symphony Orchestra-years of work to acceptance after so much abuse, now body racked in pain as he limps on his Jacobean arthritic hip…

I, representing the intermediary generation...with my baggage (we need not rehearse yet again the litany.) limp at times and feel that curvy nerve after hours in traffic as I fidget and squirm in my seat.

Joined between three generations -Eric, me and Tsiona- we have forged this moment in a bond of knowing. So this is the genetic transmission… this is how that spirit gene worked its way through the family tree web of Ungars and Sargons.

Tears that bind us three together, tears of knowing, the body in pain, the soul in anguish

We know in ways...there is something Divine about it, we have this unconscious awareness of things as they are-and what is wrong-and who is responsible.

We three carry this burden together, knowing God's unbearable pain-reality as is-and being as unacceptable.

Yet accepting it as is.