We have a houseguest this week, a relative who is not on V’s side of the family, or on mine–but on my first husband’s. I’ve grown much closer to H’s side of the family since H and I divorced. (You can draw your own conclusions from that–and assume that H just dodged a bullet…) I wasn’t part of the family yet when his nephew Max was born with congenital heart disease–which has shaped his life. And Max draws on that to touch and change the lives of others.
This book pulls it all together–his talents as a photographer, a writer, and a human being. All I could add is to click on this link—since everything is beautifully told in Max’s photographs and words–the words of some of the 25,000 kids born every year in the US with congenital heart disease. The cover is Max’s X-ray which shows the pacemaker put in when he was 8 years old.
And now I’m going to stop because Max is very humble and he has no idea I”m writing this and I’m thinking it could be awkward for me when he wakes up tomorrow and finds out. But I’m sure he’ll just smile and forgive me for bragging about him.
The thing is–Max never signed up for this but his heart ended up at the center of his life in more than the obvious way. To a doctor, Max’s heart has a mechanical defect–a medical problem. But to another human being like me, Max’s heart is full of love, and perfect.