"That Cosette continue to love him! That God would not prevent the heart of his child from turning to him, and remaining his! Loved by Cosette, he felt healed, refreshed, soothed, satisfied, rewarded, crowned. Loved by Cosette, he was content! He asked nothing more. Had anybody said to him, "Do you wish for anything better?" he would have answered, "No." Had God said to him, "Do you want heaven?" he would have answered, "I would be the loser."
****
Before H- was born, we chose not to know the sex of the baby. As a military man, I feared a son, because he would naturally want to follow in his dad's footsteps and leave home for war. So when H- came into the world, I said, "Good! She can live with us forever!"
Then divorce; essentially weekends only; moving away for work,which was sold to H- by her vindictive mother (and gee-ma and gee-pa??) as her father abandoning her (to full applause of society, including professional counseling sessions for problem of "abandoned by father"); moving back, only to be ghosted by H- since last December.
It may seem that one could reasonably conclude that my "she can live with us forever" was uttered in the same manner as Jean Valjean's sentiment.
It was not.
As I explained above, my sentiment was about being frustrated with the result of my war-seeking and not wanting it to define the rest of my time on earth, ie, I didn't want to pass on military service to my son as if it was a genetic disease. The better option seemed to have a girl, since obviously war is for boys.
To conclude, unlike Jean Valjean, noble hero that he is, I am not made content or discontent by one of my child's feelings toward me—especially while they are a child. There's really no one on earth who affects my "contentment", let alone is sufficient for it. I regard the idea as a character flaw. But in a romantic novel of novels, it is perfect and Jean Valjean is perfect.
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