We Should Love the Damaged Ones

When small acts of love mean big things

I am fortunate to be friends with a lot of people of solid social and professional status. My friends include CEO’s, philanthropists, would-be senators, lawyers and people for who fight for the inalienable rights of others.

My friends also include misfits. The undesirables. They include musicians who really don’t make a firm living but sacrifice that for their craft and their passion. Artists who buck convention but are compassionate people with beautiful minds.

My friends include people who are damaged and broken and dismissed by others.

One of my best friends is a beautifully damaged woman. She would take no offense in me saying this because she knows it’s true. She was born of a father who suffers from serious mental illness and a mother who was a hippy of the highest magnitude. Her upbringing was not like most people’s. Her sisters, who had a different and “normal” father are not like her. She has always felt different.

She suffers from a multitude of mental and emotional issues, not the least of which is a sometimes crippling depression. People that are happy and whole and complete don’t always understand people like her.

I, however, love…