Patchworked Hearts {SAMPLE}

Chapter 18

Dear Ticker Tinkerer,

Hi. Well, this is strange, to say the least.

I can't decide if this would be easier if I knew your real name and what you looked like, or only make it harder.

Guess I'll power through regardless, though it's hard to bare your soul to someone you don't know.

Oh well.

To the point, I suppose:

I was recently notified that I have a terminal illness. (Yes, it's not a fun situation, but please don't say "I'm sorry"—it gets so old hearing that after a while.) But I'm not writing to you to see if you can cure my disease or anything like that. I'm writing to you because I'd like your advice with something else.

I'm not young, Ticker Tinkerer. In fact, I've lived out most of my life, which is probably why I've been able to accept my diagnosis without too much hub-bub.

But here is the issue:

I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, and one of those is letting my own life and career get in the way of my relationship with my only son. He's an adult with a family now, but I haven't spoken to him since he was in college.

My friends all tell me that I should reach out and make him aware of what's going on—try to mend the bridge, I suppose. I'm torn, however. On one hand, I want nothing more than to seek him out and repair our relationship before I leave; on the other, I was not there to support him through many of his struggles, so why should I force him to support me with mine?

Any advice is appreciated.

Best,

A Foolish Parent

***

Dear Parent (I won't call you foolish, because we've all made mistakes),

First, I will not say "I'm sorry." I'd like to think the words are implied, if nothing else, and I am well aware that they do nothing to make you feel better or solve your problems.

Instead of "I'm sorry," let's take a peek at what's troubling you.

Family, of course, is always a tricky issue, but I think it needs to be said that you're doing a wonderful thing just by reaching out and getting different opinions (especially to a stranger). It takes a lot to admit a mistake, and I think that the urge to stay proud is even more prevalent when you're a parent.

Now, I apologize if I'm overstepping, but I can't help but take notice of the hesitancy in your writing.

I think you know what you want (and perhaps even need) to do, Parent, but you're scared of what might happen if you confront the issue with your son head on. I certainly don't blame you, if that's the case; I believe it's perfectly normal to be anxious of the unknown, especially when the unknown is the judgement of someone you love very much.

I'm afraid there's not much I can offer you, other than this tidbit of advice: Reaching out is scary, but necessary. Think about it this way: Even if your son doesn't respond to the olive branch you extend, will you at least be comforted by the fact that you tried to make things right? Or would you rather stay silent?