Broken Heart

BROKEN HEART

Every morning Christi comes quietly down the stairs for breakfast and once she is seated she asks like clockwork,

“Momma, am I going to live with the angels today?”

Ellen answers the same way everyday, masking the deep emotion that sits just below the surface,

“No, Christi today is not the day because we have too much to get done. We are going to the park, do the grocery shopping, pick up the dry cleaning, go to the doctor’s, come home to make supper, and then read one of your favorite books.”

Christi has a broken heart. It hurts all the time, sometimes even when she smiles. It’s not broken from a ruined relationship or the longing of a lost love. Christi is almost six years old and her heart is literally broken. If it doesn’t get fixed soon she will never feel the true emotions of a “broken heart” from a lost love in her life time.

She was born with a rare heart malformation, and it struggles to live with minute’s amount of oxygen. The problem is, her condition evolved faster than modern medicine, and the machine needed to help Christi is not available yet.

“Yeah!” Christi cheered; she clapped her hands and jumped up and down until the coughing started. She immediately ran to get the first of the many doses of different medicines she takes daily.

“That’s better now isn’t it? You know you can’t get all excited. Your face turns the color of that plum on the counter.”

Christi looked at the plum and turned even redder with slight embarrassment.

“Now finish your cereal and off to get ready for the day.”

Christi eats between halting breaths. She always fears drowning in her cereal milk.

After breakfast, Christi studies her bare chest in the bathroom mirror while teetering on her step-stool. She points to the middle and looks at her mother questioningly.

“Yes, honey that is where they have to go in and mend your little heart. You will have a line like a red crayon down from here to here (pointing from sternum to belly button.)

At just that moment, Christi started to giggle when her mother tickled her tummy at the point the crayon mark would end, but Ellen immediately stopped tickling. She knew this little amount of joviality would initiate another coughing fit and it wasn’t time for more meds yet.


Finished getting dressed, Momma and her “vision of pride” went on their way to complete the day ahead.

At the grocery store, Ellen heard her cell phone ring. Digging endlessly in her bottomless shoulder bag, she found it and answered. Time crawled at a snail’s pace as Christi watched her mother out of the corner of her eyes. Her real attention was on the varied rows of chocolate bars that were teasingly close to her seat in the shopping cart. Suddenly, it was Ellen’s turn to jump up and down with glee – and definitely act like a four year old. After she snapped the phone shut, she grabbed Christi’s attention away from the confectionary delights, and told her the source of her merriment.

“Auntie Sheila is in town.” Stated as if Christi should know who or what an “Auntie Sheila” was.

Christi cocked her head to the side with a look of wonderment on her face. That name didn’t register a bell with her but she was happy that the “very, very, very best friend her mother had ever had” was in town and would be staying for a few days. If this person could make momma smile then she definitely could stay at her house. Christi’s mother continued with her bravado of “Aunt Sheila.” She hadn’t seen her momma really smile in her whole life.

Christi came downstairs the next morning just as quietly as usually, and momma met her daily question with the well rehearsed answer, but there was a twist today; Auntie Sheila was coming to spend the day. This disappointed Christi because she loved her daily schedule especially the park. But she didn’t have to move in with the angels today so she welcomed Auntie Sheila.

As it turned out, Auntie Sheila was a gift from heaven. Presents were bountiful and they were more valuable than anything you could possibly imagine. Christi couldn’t believe the treasures she received. This wasn’t Christmas but to a five year old, this was just as good. Auntie Sheila was everything momma said she was; kind, gentle and very loving. She also loved to laugh and laugh and laugh. There hadn’t been so much laughter in the house – ever. Mickey Clown (Christi’s favorite show on TV) didn’t make momma laugh as much as Auntie Sheila, and according to Christi, Mickey Clown was very funny.

Christi went to dream land having another wonderful day and hoped that she had a tomorrow. She didn’t understand the importance of “Aunt Sheila” nor did her little mind remember having met her before, so Christi guessed that a new adventure was about to begin. She hoped that if she had to live with the angels they would be as wonderful and kind as Auntie Sheila. She would have to ask her momma in the morning. Excitement fueled a peaceful glow on her face and soon she fell asleep.

The next morning, Ellen waited for Christi to come down the stairs and braced herself to answer the well rehearsed question. It tore her apart to witness Christi struggle with her mortality.

Like clockwork, Christi quietly came down the stairs and asked,” Momma is today the day I go live with the angels? And are the angels as nice as Auntie Sheila?”

Surprised by the second question, Ellen answered her daughter,” OH Christi, darling, the angels are even nicer and kinder than Auntie Sheila. They are the best friends ever.”

Christi found this hard to believe since she thought Auntie Sheila was pretty awesome. Then she waited. Ellen saw that Christi still had a perplexed, fearful look on her face, and the color had drained from her strawberry cheeks. Suddenly she realized her error – she had neglected to answer the “daily question.”

“And, no Christi, you are not going to live with the angels today because we have too much to do……..”

Christi was so relieved that she forgot to listen to their day’s activity list, and headed back up stairs to get dressed. She still had another day.

On the way to the park, Ellen’s cell phone rang. Christi watched with hilarity as her momma tried once again to find the ringing object from the depths of her purse. This struggle really should become one of the races on Sports Day at preschool. Suddenly everything was very quiet and Ellen just listened to whoever was on the other end. Her momma never said a word when she finished. Ellen’s blank stare started to make Christi uncomfortable.

“Momma, what is it? I’m scared. What’s wrong? Is it Auntie Sheila?”

“No, Christi your Auntie Sheila is safely home by now. Come and sit over here on the park bench, I want to tell you something.”

Christi was starting to feel really funny in her tummy as she tentatively reached for her mother’s hand and followed her to the bench. Once seated Christi faced her momma and waited for her to talk. Once Ellen formed her thoughts, she began.

“Christi, ask me your daily question, the one you ask me every morning.”

Not really understanding, she did as she was asked. Then she waited.

“No, Christi you will not be gong to live with the angels today,” she took a shaky breath and continued,” nor will you ever have to go and live with them.”

Christi really wasn’t listening to her momma because she had heard the same answer so many times. But this time the response was different, and Christi definitely was lost. .Her momma’s reply was not the usual pat answer so Christi didn’t understand it and her posture and face expressions relayed her confusion.


“Momma, what do you mean? Don’t’ the angels want me anymore? Was that the angels calling to tell you I can’t live with them?”
Tears formed half moons on the lower lids of Christi’s eyes. She knew, after all, that going to live with angels was not a good thing, but she still wanted them to like her.

“OH darling, no, no, no, anyone would want you to live with them but they can’t have you. I have found a way to fix you and you’re staying here with me.

“What do you mean you can fix me? You are not a machine. You are not a Doctor.”

Ellen burst into laughter at her little one’s thought patterns.

“You are right Christi I am not those things, but I am your mother and I love you so much that I urged the hospital to search and search the whole world until I found something to fix you.”

After composing herself, Ellen continued trying to explain in four year old terms the medical knowledge of the 21st century.

“Christi, our children’s hospital just called.” Christi nodded her head as if she understood.

“They received a machine that fixes hearts. Especially hearts like yours. We have been waiting almost five years for this machine to come here and now it can mend your little pumper.” With that said, Ellen lightly massages the area of Christi’s chest that houses her precious source of life.

Christi listened and pretended to understand everything her mother was saying, but she had that funny tummy again and the fears of old started to gather strength in her soul again. Would it hurt? Would she be better? Could she still go and live with angels if the machine didn’t fix her heart? Would she be able to have friends over, and run in the gardens like they do? How long will it take for her get better? So many questions and not having the vocabulary to convey them - the questions turned into worries, and these worries exuded from Christi’s face.

“Don’t worry your little head about things. We’ll go see Dr. Patterson tomorrow and he will tell us more. OK?”

Christi nodded full of confusion. She still wanted to play in the park and soon put her worries to the back of her mind after her fifth push on the swing.

He next day, Dr. Peterson explained procedures.

“”Christi you will be having your heart fixed on February 14 which is next week. When the machine finishes mending your heart, you will have a scar on your chest, but it will go…”

“I know it will look like a red crayon line. Momma showed me,” interrupted Christi proudly with her knowledge. Her face was beaming.

“Oh you are such a smart little girl. Now I want you to go home and rest up. You and I have a lot of work ahead of us next week.”

February 14th arrived without the usual romantic hoopla. But hopefully today, Christi would ask her constant question for the last time. Ellen put the coffee on and then heard tiny little footsteps enter the kitchen and she waited.

Nothing – no voice asking a well rehearsed question. Ellen turned to see a very happy daughter.

“Momma today is the last day I might have to go live with the angels. Can I write them a letter to say goodbye?”

“Of course I’ll help you now.”

Christi’s letter was a giant colorful scribble and resembled a rainbow in a blender. She was very proud of her effort and had her mother put it in an envelope.

“Will you mail this for me momma? I want the angels to get it soon.”

“I will mail it baby after you are in the hospital. It’ll get to them soon”

Christi watched her momma put her precious letter in her purse. She was relieved and it was the first time her tummy didn’t have that funny feeling. She ran over and hugged her momma with all her might.

They arrived at hospital admissions and Christi played in the playroom while her momma filled out the paperwork. Christi’s Doctor appeared in the door way.

“Christi, do you want to see the machine that is going to mend you?”

“Can momma come?”

“Of course; here, take my hand and we will get your mother to join us.”

Christi held her Doctor’s hand and the three of them ventured of to see the machine. The machine was very big. Christi had to tip back her head as far as it would go in order to see the top of it.

“Wow that is a big machine momma. What’s that on it?” Christi pointed to a shiny plaque attached to the side of the medical miracle.
Ellen stepped closer to read it. Dr Paterson explained it was the person who donated the machine. Christi watched her momma closely. She saw a tear run down her momma’s face.

“What is it momma?”

Christi’s momma bent down and hugged her very tightly, “Christi, I was wrong. Aunty Sheila is indeed an angel. One of the kindest in this world and you’re going to be OK now. I love you.”

This was a Valentine’s Day never to be forgotten – by either of them.




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