That’s when everything touches you. And there are days when nothing does, but it’s not as if you can’t feel it lurking in the shadows, and nearly erupting beneath the surface and beneath the sheets. Maybe they’re not so different after all – feeling everything and feeling nothing – for you can only feel nothing if you’re trying to survive not feeling everything. I prefer the heart hurting days to the heart numbing days, but maybe the creamy middles are the best heart days of all.
That was my Tuesday. The day was gloomy and one of the 20 chickens was sick. Is sick. Cassidy looked up what was wrong with her and learned it might be treatable (but probably not) and hopefully wasn’t communicable. She got her own cage and yogurt but couldn’t walk around much. I gave her mealworms, which is the mecca of chicken treats, and she’s been loving them, but looks so sad and alone. I can’t stand suffering of any kind, unless it’s mosquitos or ticks, and only then is my heart numb to the suffering. Sometimes, I even cause it. The damage they do is intolerable. I let wasps live, though, which the kids don’t love about me. Hey, I love it about me.
The summer shops are closing one by one. Last week, our burger joint closed up for the season. Today? My favorite ice cream stand is closing for half the year. My favorite diner/cafe is closing its doors on Sunday, and not for the season. It’s forever and I can’t handle it the way I never can handle things as they are. It’s not just a diner/bakery. It’s a dream and a world and a collision of connections. And the whys and hows are heartbreaking and the fact that I’ll never go in there again – or in the there that’s now – is unfathomable. In its place, though, so much is possible.
It’s funny how you have the heart hurting days, weeks, and months, and nothing seems possible or at least probable, but it all is, even if you can’t see it. And the heart hurting days are outweighed by the ones full of reaching in and reaching out; warmth and laughter and hope.
Sometimes the antidotes are song lyrics and song meanings, and the lyrics and meanings I choose to see or interpret. Sometimes the antidotes are house guests, late night advice, and the best videos that money can’t buy – like Scarlet dancing to a song she didn’t understand then, & doesn’t understand now (but probably should on the sooner side) near a rubber ducky boat.
My mom once told me a story about a time she hit a squirrel with her car. The squirrel had had an apple in its mouth. Isn’t that unfathomable? Maybe the apple rolled into the street. Maybe another squirrel found it. About ten minutes after she told me, I was hunched over the steering wheel in tears. It can be beautiful and propelling – this overwhelming pain in our hearts – that can make us want to be more, do more, cry more, write more, love more. These tiny and large heartbreaks – putting us one foot in front of the other – ready to scream, cry, love, and leap.
Maybe your heart hurts the most right before a jump, as if it’s the only shred of you still holding on to what will no longer be. That one last gut check. Let it ready you and steady you – hands on your shoulders, whispers in your ears, eyes meeting eyes. Looking before you leap. Then, go.
It’s not just one big jump, you see. There’s a series of jumps – ranging from miniscule to gigantic – and we’re the jumping types, I think. So take my hand – and take my whole heart too.
I’m linking up with Finish The Sentence Friday (FTSF) for another challenging prompt. This week’s topic is “Jump (Photo Prompt)..” And there’s time to write yours. Link up HERE.