Bleeding Hearts

I stood outside the county courthouse in the parking lot surround by trees of yellow, red, and orange. The fall wind blew a chilly breeze that lingered in the air. It was Friday just after 5 pm and everyone was leaving work to rush home for the weekend.

"It will be okay," I said to one of my foster children. Really saying that for myself because I needed to believe that. The four foster children I had were moving to a new home.

I hugged myself, brushing my hands up and down my arms seeking more solace than warmth.

B stood there stone faced and lost in her other world where she was safe. R sobbed and sobbed wiping snot from his nose across his sleeve. M tried to mother the two younger ones and assure them that this next house would be better than mine. N looked me straight in the eyes, casting her hurt to the depth of my heart while single tears rolled out of the corners of her eyes.

It was a moment I wanted to never end and a moment I wanted to end so quickly.

I hugged them all goodbye and told them I loved them always. I watched them get into other vehicles and drive away. N the only one to look back with pure agony in her face.

I fell into the driver's seat of my car and wept.

Until I was able to bottle up all the emotions and bury them deep in my heart.

I returned home and was embraced by my three girls who had tons of questions where I had no answers. Of course I responded perfectly to them and they were pleased.

My heart still aches.

Not a single day goes by that I do not think of these four children. There are songs, moments, or sayings that keep them alive. Their picture hangs on our fridge.

I can remember every detail about the night I picked up these kids and met them for the first time. And I remember the moment I realized I loved each of them for who they were.

It is easy to love others in general terms and there is a place for that kind of love, but I think what we all desire is to be loved specifically. I do not just want to be another acknowledgement in someones life. I want to be something more, different, special because of me.

The pain I felt when the foster children moved created a barrier around my heart. If I didn't let anyone else get close, I would not feel the pain. It was an easy maneuver.

But, I cannot desire to be loved specifically without giving that back in return.

So this carefree, loving girl created a heart barrier that resides inside a woman.

There are several people who have managed to poke holes in that barrier and I have learned to love them specifically, but I still try to protect myself.

Truthfully, I have no problem being expressively passionate about things that frustrate me or I see as injustices, but I struggle being expressively passionate about the joys.

It is so much easier to live life in our safe places. Isn't it?

Where we think we control the outcome. Where things are consistent, predictable.Where we can love others because there are so few we love. Where we can get up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, watch TV and go to bed. Where tomorrow is a repeat of today. Where we are neat and tidy and everything really does fit into a place we have created.

I have lived it too. Honestly, there are days I am tempted to retreat back there.

Yet, deep down I believe life is meant to be lived, tasted, savored, devoured, explored, and messily wonderful.

I contradict myself.

I don't want to hurt. But I think that really living life is intertwined with loving specifically.

So, I confess that albeit scary, I push myself daily to try to love this way and to break my heart barrier away piece-by-piece.

Thoughts on Grandma

My grandmother passed away today. Sadly the last time I saw her was at Pop's funeral in 1995. Soon after he passed away she moved to Hawaii to be closer to two of her children and her youngest grandchildren. I have thought about her often in the past, but somehow never connected with her personally again. No excuse makes the lost connection right.

So when this news came today, I felt. For our lives are filled with relationships and regardless of the length of time or if they are current or past, they all leave us feeling something. The complexity of feelings is often hard to explain, but we know we feel something, which is where I am today.

There are many interesting stories surrounding my Grandma’s life that I do not dare try to figure out what is fact or fiction. Instead I’ll focus on what I knew.

When I think of Grandma, I smell coffee. I can remember walking into their farmhouse and it smelled like coffee.

I can also remember writing something while at her house and her telling me to write it again… slower and neater…… sadly I still have sloppy handwriting.

I remember the red and white lottery cards she would give us to fill out each time we visited. We would get to choose our favorite numbers and fill in the little circles on the card so Pop could take them to the store.

I remember her huge ornate antique beds that I would get to sleep in when we spent the night. You had to have a running start to jump up into the bed and you were engulfed in fluffy softness when you landed. I remember pretending I was a princess.

I remember her house filled with antique couches, chairs, desks, tables and a player piano. Treasures that I never really saw as unique, but now wish I had. I remember her visiting once and saying how my cousin made her listen to “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard on the way to our house. And I remember her telling me…”You know that song is really not talking about sugar, right?”

I remember she completed her GED in her 60s.

I remember visiting her while Pop was in his last stages of cancer and painting her toenails for her.

I remember hugging her at Pop’s funeral without realizing that would be our last goodbye.

As 2010 approached I vowed to really live this year without regrets, letting fear not hold me back from asking, moving forward, or trying. I promised myself that I would intentionally show others I loved them whether through words, actions, or deeds. With Grandma’s passing today I am even more aware that I need to not be afraid to let someone know I care--whether this is through listening, crying with someone because they are hurting, embracing someone because they need to be touched, saying what needs to be said, laughing, dancing, singing, smiling, shouting, calling or writing.

I will love abundantly, seek to bring joy to others, and offer grace where I can.