Scars remind us where we have been.
They remind us what we survived.
They show us how we changed.
When I look at Michael now, I can once again see the boy I raised.
I also see a grown man who made a terrible series of choices, accepted the consequences, and worked to become someone better.
I see compassion that was once buried beneath fear.
I see humility where entitlement once lived.
I see a man who understands that love cannot be measured in land, money, inheritance, or ownership.
Sometimes the most important lessons arrive through the experiences we would never have chosen.
Sometimes the moments that break a family apart can also expose truths that family members have avoided for years.
And sometimes an obstacle blocking the road becomes the beginning of a much longer journey back to where we belong.
I do not know exactly what the future holds.
