“Is he always this happy?”
It’s the question I am most asked about my thirteen year old son. At 60 pounds and 4’3″, with the amount of enthusiasm he has for everything, he can easily pass for an eight year old.
Born Deaf, his lungs are compressed by his large, deformed heart. He’s barrel-chested and is covered in scars, least of which is the tube in his stomach from whence he receives 99% of his nutrition. He is hooked up to a feeding machine about five hours a day. I’m sure he experiences pain – more than likely he’s been through more than most of us in his short life.
But I marvel at his little body. That he keeps going without complaint – he’s never known any different. I’m sure he’s realized by now that he’s not the same as most kids. One of his major goals in life is to eat in the cafeteria with the other kids at school, instead of being sent to the infirmary for lunch every day.
It amazes me what the human body can endure and still keep going. We think of ourselves as fragile. We grieve when something stops working. Our eyesight fades, our hearing goes, our muscles tire more easily – but imagine if you had always been this way.
My son is a constant inspiration to me. Everywhere he goes he makes people smile with his joy in life.
The answer to the question: “Yes.”
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