Sometimes when my daughter Caitlin was growing up, images and ideas would sneak into my head before I could squeeze them away. What a headstone might say. The Freddie Mercury music that would accompany a heartbreakingly beautiful video of her life at a memorial service. When she reached adulthood and her quality of life began to deteriorate from the disease she was born with—cystic fibrosis—and it became clear she would need a lung transplant to survive, I laser-focused on the positive: a successful outcome that would allow her to return to independent living. That wasn’t ignorance or wishful thinking.