Tag: family

Shaped By Our Suffering

When we lived in Colorado, I would see trees on the edge of cliffs as we drove through the mountains. The wind and weather at that elevation could be brutal. But these trees would grow thick roots to ground themselves into the earth, even as their trunk and branches were bent and battered and grew angled towards the sky to withstand the constant pressure from the wind.

I recently came across the phrase “shaped by our suffering,” which speaks to how difficult experiences can shape a person’s character, perspective, or life path. While painful and often unwanted, the idea is that suffering can lead to personal growth, resilience, and a deeper understanding of life.

For as long as my son can remember, he has had challenges. He has had seizures, memory, attention, and learning difficulties. He was isolated even before the pandemic and, even now, is often on the outside of many social situations. He had so many dreams taken away from him before he could try to achieve them.

Through it all, though, his challenges and struggles shaped him into a sweet, empathetic, resilient, and big-hearted person. Those are his roots, which ground him as a person and to this family and keep him from getting blown away by what he endures every day to be in the world.

His struggles have also shaped me, forcing me to reflect on myself, my life, and my choices and develop a greater self-awareness. The months in the hospital while the doctors, nurses, and support staff kept him alive and rebuilt what he had lost changed my view on life, gratitude, and presence. The strength and grace he shows daily in the face of his challenges guide how I think about and approach challenges in my day.

The hardship we endured as a family, which tried to tear us apart, formed deeper, stronger connections between my wife and me and in our family. Today, those roots continue to strengthen, ground us, and make us more resilient against whatever comes our way.

Like the trees I saw in Colorado, we are shaped by the winds of our struggles. The storms we face may bend and scar us, but they also deepen our roots, making us more resilient and grounded in the things that truly matter. My son’s suffering has shaped him into a remarkable person with an incredible capacity for empathy, strength, and love. It’s taught me to live with more gratitude, to be more present, and to face my challenges with the same strength as my son.

The hardships we endure don’t define us, but they shape us—and sometimes, they make us stronger than we ever imagined possible.

What Matters is the Repair

Hello, Hindsight, my old friend.
You’ve come to talk to me again.
Because a mistake I made today
Left its mark and pushed someone away
And the shame that was planted in my brain
Still remains
With the sounds of silence

On more than one occasion, my response to an action that my son did was out of proportion to the action itself. Usually, it’s because he repeated the same action, and there is an escalation of consequences. But sometimes, it’s driven by my trauma, insecurities, and fear about my son’s future.

A few weeks ago, there was the Chocolate Bar Incident that I wrote about in a previous post that involved him lying about sneaking candy. The candy wasn’t the issue; the lying was, and it triggered a knee-jerk reaction to take away his electronics “for I don’t know how long.”

I was so frustrated with his lying, and I didn’t understand why he was doing it. I had a hard childhood, and I feared that he was lying the same way that I lied because he felt unsafe like I did. I was also afraid that it was because of his impulse control and executive functioning issues. I needed to shock him with extreme consequences to change his behavior and stop him from lying. Otherwise, how could he go out into the world?

Like I said…out of proportion.

After I had time to cool off, I felt terrible. Yes, he struggles with impulse control and executive functioning, but so do a lot of people. Also, teenagers lie. It’s normal and doesn’t necessarily reflect on his future possibilities.

I thought about how I responded and how I should have responded and felt like an asshole. Feelings of guilt and shame washed over me, and I feared that my response would be what stuck with him about this situation and that it would affect or define our relationship.

I went in to apologize. I shared why I had my reaction, explaining how I was afraid he was having the same childhood and experiences that I did. That fear and projection about his future triggered my response because I wanted to change his path so that he didn’t have to endure the same challenges that I did. But I understand that wasn’t what was happening; it just looked the same. I told him I was sorry, and he accepted my apology like the sweet, kind, empathetic boy that he is.

That, I am learning, is what will define our relationship. What matters isn’t the mistake. What matters is the repair.

We all make mistakes. As much as we wish we could be perfect in our relationships, we’re human, which means we’ll stumble, say the wrong thing, or make a bad choice occasionally. Whether it’s a moment of lost patience, a misunderstanding, or a decision we wish we could take back, mistakes are inevitable. But here’s the thing: what matters most isn’t the mistake itself—it’s what happens afterward. The repair is what truly defines the strength and depth of a relationship.

When we mess up, there’s often a sense of failure or shame that comes along with it. We worry we’ve damaged trust or created distance in the relationship. But the reality is that the most meaningful connections aren’t the ones that never face difficulty. They’re the ones that grow and evolve through those moments. It’s the repair process—the act of acknowledging the hurt, making amends, and working to rebuild trust—that ultimately makes relationships stronger.

At the end of the day, it’s not the mistakes that define us—it’s what we do after them. We all face moments where we wish we had done things differently, but those moments can lead to greater understanding and intimacy if we approach them with humility and care.

Our children don’t need perfect parents; they need parents who are real, who are trying, and who are willing to own their mistakes. Children learn more from our willingness to grow than from our attempts to be flawless. When they see us apologize, try again, and love them through the messy parts of life, they learn resilience, empathy, and the value of authentic connection.

Discovering What’s Next

Our son is officially a 9th grader, adding to our list of milestones and events we weren’t sure we would see.

We are very fortunate to be able to start high school in the best way possible. The school he has been at since 6th grade offers a transition year, which we are taking advantage of with the support of our school district. That means he will have the same teachers, peers, and environment to continue his journey for another year. Especially with the looming surgery, recovery time, and uncertainty with his tolerance for calibrating the brain stimulator, keeping him in a place where he is comfortable and cared for is a gift.

This is going to be a year of changes. Unless higher grades magically appear, this will be his last year at the school, and his peers who have been concentrated at his school will find high schools in their home districts. This will likely be his last year of baseball, as the level of play and competition at the next level may not be something he can manage. His peers will get their learner’s permits and start driving, something he won’t be able to do while he is still having seizures.

No one knows what is on the other side of these changes. I am sure he will find friends among his new peers and that other interests will replace baseball. While he won’t learn to drive with his peers, there will be other rights of passage to conquer and other ways to grow.

But many of these changes are still on the horizon. He has 9th grade to look forward to and another baseball season. He has his school, teachers, peers, and friends. He has and will always have his family. And together, we can navigate these changes and discover what’s next.