The surgeries went well, and not long afterwards, my sister and I were allowed to go in to visit. Dad was in a great deal of pain but, again, all he could talk about was Mom, who donated her kidney to him. Was she okay? How was she feeling? As they were wheeling Mom out of the recovery room, they rolled her into a separate place in Dad's to visit him. It was like a dream to see both our parents hooked up to IVs and machines and trying to talk to each other through tears. The nurses allowed us to present the diamond ring, which was purchased by Dad before the surgery, to Mom so that Dad could watch her open it. Everybody was crying, even the nurses. As I stood with digital camera in hand, I tried to keep the presence of mind to document the moment. My dad was having a hard time fighting back emotion, and suddenly my parents  reached out to hold each other's hands. In my nearly 35 years of existence, I'd never seen my parents do that, and I was absorbed in. I snapped a picture and later rushed home to make sure I'd captured that enormous, life-defining moment. _ . After so many years of quarrels, it was apparent to me that they finally understood how much each loved the other actually . It's as if the transplant healed our whole family. Dad is far gentler, and he has more patience now. He's not condescending  to my mother anymore. Mom, too, has loosened up, since she's not dealing with all that anger. There's a closeness that they didn't have before, and the experience has deepened their faith. For Christmas, my sister and I gave them two framed photos linked together by hooks. The top photo is of their clasped hands on their wedding day, August 7, 1965. It says, "For better or worse, for richer or poorer." The second photo is of that day in the recovery room. Their hands are intertwined and it says, "In sickness and in health, till death do us part." What's the true feeling of the author when he saw both his parents in the recovery room?
terrible worried incredible moved