I feel like that is all I have done this summer…pitch my heart…up into the atmosphere, wondering in what condition it would return to me… Whole, half, pieces missing… And after I had worked so hard since John’s death to make it whole again.
Part of my heart is walking around in the form of my two sons. Part of my heart is in the framed photo of the family at the bottom of the bannister. Another piece I wear around my neck – my wedding ring set into a lovely pendant.
John III and I have had our moments during these last 22 months, and it culminated with me sending this piece of my heart on an Outward Bound Intercept Trip to the Boundary Waters of Minnesota for 28 days. A piece of my heart went away, in hopes that his heart might find some comfort, direction and appreciation.
Sometimes I wonder if my heart is too tough. I never wonder about it being too tender. My husband was much better at that than I.
I did my heart homework, while he portaged canoes, camped, rode the rapids, went solo, and soaked up lots of male energy. And when this piece of my heart returned to me, with stubble on his face, surety in his voice and a newly discovered self confidence, God confirmed that pitching this piece of my heart
had not been in vain.