February. Heart month.
Music is the song the heart sings. All beautiful, yearning, tearful, happy, tragic melodies. Our hearts swell with gratitude and love. They break with sorrow and loss. They patch themselves back together again, stronger than ever. And always, always, willing to risk again. Willing to open as wide as possible to let the love and the life in and maybe even the pain. And they physically pump the blood and oxygen around to feed all parts of our bodies to keep us going, until one day they don't. I had a friend who used to say there's really only one thing people die from. A broken heart. One that doesn't work anymore. No one is dead until their heart stops.
We are really afraid of the risks that we take a lot of the time, but we take them anyway. Because we have the faith that there is something better, something magnificent waiting for us on the other side of fear. Sometimes we are right. Sometimes we are not. But we don't give up, not us, intrepid beings that we are --always hoping, always believing, always trusting.
And as a result of that blind faith ...something that we don't really share (I don't think) with anyone else in the animal kingdom...we carry on. We try again. We yearn for the eternal spring --a time of regneration, new growth and new beginnings. And we make our lives work and we nest and we take one step at a time, one day at a time...and we don't give up.
Unless our hearts get broken beyond repair. Then we say goodbye. Either temporarily or forever.
My dad's birthday was February 3rd, 1925. Our dad is always our first love, I think. Our protector, our rock, our provider. Usually. Mine was, and I'm grateful for that. He's the measuring stick we use to size up every other man in our life forever. My husband's birthday is February 8, 1960. He is a lot like my dad in some ways, not so much in others. My dad never knew him, but I promise you he would have loved him. So, 2 important men in my life, both with connections to this heart month. He was not my first husband, but he will be my last. He was my only dad. Both of these men have filled my heart with equal amounts of love and pain, and both have shown me love like nothing I can measure.
This post hasn't been what I thought it was going to be, but I think that I will spend the entire month of February posting about love. I think that I will sing my love song as best I know how, and trust that it will nourish me in ways that only love can. In the end, love is all there is. Can I post about love for a whole month, even a shorter-than-usual one ? Maybe. Can I write love letters to the ones I care about and even some to the ones I don't know yet ? Probably. Do I want to believe that love is the answer ? Definitely.