I’ve had a bit of a heavy heart recently. This past year – and last
year as well, truth be told – has seen the passing of too many close, dear
loved ones. The kind of loved ones that hold a huge part of your heart tightly
with them at all times. The kind of loved ones whose presence is always
somewhere in the back or even the front your mind, a sort of protection against
the world when things are rough and an additional uplift when things are
wonderful. The kind of loved ones who leave a ragged, aching hold in your heart
when they’re gone.
I’m crying as I write this. This is strange, because at the passing of
some of these beloved individuals, I didn’t shed a single tear. The shock of
their passing was too great for my emotions to wrap around. For others, the
tears came hard and couldn’t be held back, no matter how much I tried. But
tonight, as my thoughts wander from one missed loved one to another, the tears come
softly.
The most recent loss came just a couple days ago, and it was a doozy,
and it came only weeks after another loss. I won’t go into the who or the why,
but suffice it to say that this was one of those losses that cut deep. I haven’t
cried yet, but I suspect it’s coming. My mind just cannot comprehend that this
vibrant and amazing human being, someone I have known literally my entire life,
isn’t here physically any longer.
The first time I experienced a loss like this – the kind of loss that
takes days and days to accept – was almost 20 years ago. My grandfather – the patriarch
of my family and one of the most impressive and dynamic and brilliant and
loving and exceptional individuals ever to walk the earth – passed away exactly
one week before my first wedding (yes, I’ve
had two weddings; deal with it). To say I was stunned is an understatement.
I found myself alternately silent and giggly throughout his funeral and burial;
his lack of existence on this physical plane was too ridiculous to accept. Two
weeks later, however, the dam burst as I was attempting to drive home from
work, and I had to pull over in a parking lot where I cried uncontrollably for
two straight hours. It was the first of
many such sessions.
Tonight, my thoughts wander and dance and drift across the idea of
protecting one’s heart against heartbreak, of keeping love at a distance to
avoid just this sort, or any sort, of deep ache and sadness. I wonder, as many
others do, at the futility of loving as fully and deeply and openly, knowing
heartbreak could always be imminent and that hearts are fragile things.
The thing is, I am aware – every minute of every day – of how fortunate
I am to have as many close acquaintances and colleagues as I do. Even for those
people who aren’t necessarily close friends, I would do just about anything,
and I know that so many people in this same group would do the same for me.
Still, there isn’t a huge number of individuals I would consider very
close friends, but to those who are I give my whole heart, freely, without
limits. That’s a risky thing, if you think about it. That involves an insane
amount of trust – not just in each person but also in circumstance. In that
situation, each individual has the power to crush your heart, but so does fate.
And fate’s been having a bit of a field day lately.
Add to this the fact that I’m an emotional person. I’m essentially a giant
ball of emotion crammed into a small body. I practically burst at the seams
with emotional energy – mostly happiness, but anger and frustration and
giddiness and sadness and everything else come in this package, and pretty
dramatically so. Heartbreak is no different. It can be a bit overwhelming.
So that begs the question: is it better to continue to love deeply and
trust wholly and give my heart fully to each loved one, or is the potential for
pain and heartache just too much to bear without putting up some boundaries and
protections? It’s a quandary.
For now, I think that I can only continue to open my heart widely, to
dream broadly, to love fully and to accept that by doing so I make myself
vulnerable to heartbreak and the aching pain of loss. Because there is power
and brilliance and unparalleled beauty in loving so completely. And eventually,
after the pain of a deep loss has eased somewhat, the memory of such a love
brings its own satisfaction and helps heal a hurting heart.
Tonight, I'm counting on that. I'm counting on the fact that the memory of this most recently lost loved one eventually will bring a smile where tonight the loss feels like a grey shadow, an emptiness in the world that this beloved soul used to fill so perfectly. It will happen, and for now I'm focusing on remembering how fortunate I was, how incredibly lucky I was, to know her and to call her family and to have her around for so many years. What a gift that was.
So for me, for now, I choose love.
