My son has a broken heart. It wasn’t caused by love or loss. It’s been that way from his beginning. Technology, medicine, and doctors work to keep it functioning. It has been the source of pain; mental and physical.
When someone makes an expensive purchase, they want the best and seek perfection; no flaws. We take our children as they are though…with their imperfections. My child happens to have a broken heart. His body is covered with scars; visual reminders of this broken heart. There’s a scar under his arm, another down the center of his chest, small ones on his wrists, puncture wounds on his stomach, small bites on his neck and wires inside holding his bones together. He’s not scarred intellectually; but there are mental scars; scars I cannot see. They are scars of fear, dread, worry, and memories of physical pain. All this and his attitude remains positive. He is a chameleon disguised by his clothing which hides his life map of scars. He blends in with other young adults. He is a warrior disguised as a regular man; not a warrior that fights others, but a warrior that fights for his own life.
Watching your child in battle is terrifying. I fear he will be lost after every fight and dread the approach of new foes.
I also admire his courage and stand in awe of his bravery. He may not recognize his own strength, but I do. I cherish every day, month and year as his mom.
My son may have a broken heart, but he has a soul made of unbreakable steel.