Giving the heart

I am learning about love in a family. Friends of mine are dealing with a brain tumor of their 42 year old, youngest son, Thoams Michael. His three siblings have gathered around to support him. His parents are there, as parents should be to support their children. His wife and two children are there.
I realize in my own case that I did not know how to protect my own four children. I had been in a boarding school in eighth grade in Africa, then a four year boarding school outside of Philadelphia within four months of my father's death. It was not a good thing, but I accepted it and dealt with it. I lost my desire to learn and I just survived. Oh, the premium on institutionalized education is far too great. I needed my family. I needed love, not facts.
I wanted my own children at home. I was able to home school them through sixth grade--we did have help in the beginning from a very caring woman, Mary C., who was meticulous in her preparation. Anyway, I liked the atmosphere and the way the kids learned from each other, but as the kids neared 14, the age at which I had lost my father to a car accident I struggle. I had no ground to stand on and I let my children out into the wild, as I had been. My wife was much more protective of them. She nurtured them more than I could. I guess that I did not know that my role was to protect. I did not know how to do it. I had never protected anyone before and I had had a lack of protection, and, probably, felt that I did not need it. Now, unfortunately, I could not give it.
Now I sit here wondering if my scarred heart will shed its scales and let out the tears and if I will be able to be truly there for those whom I love and have a chance to help. All four of my children will be home for Christmas. I hope that I can give them me and not an image or a shell with little content. This is a matter of the heart. This is a matter of caring and loving. I have not done a good job as a father, though I made a point of being around, a lot. I, still, could not get my heart around anyone. I was too scared, too scarred, too beaten from tending to my mere survival that I had no heart to give.
Now I hope to open up for my friends. I will offer prayers and make sacrifices for the recovery of the youngest son and, perhaps, God will work on this oldest son. Oh God is always working in so many directions. No issue is small and all issues include love which He wants us all to have. Laus tibi Christe.