To Be Broken Hearted

Two nights ago, I had a strange dream that has since caused me to ponder.

I dreamt I was in bed, awake, and alone.  There was a Sponge Bob shaped balloon (just the shape no face) at the foot of the bed.  I was really missing Dad Ries, I miss his wisdom, I miss his good heart, I miss his love, and I was so sad.  Suddenly I asked the walls, “Dad, are you here?” He wasn’t, but I grabbed the balloon and just held it and wept holding that balloon so tight. It was a complete release. I never knew I could cry so hard. I knew it was a dream and marveled at that kind of release in wonder. I gave myself permission to break down, and in my dream, I wept torrential tears.

When I woke, I knew everything was going to be okay, and I had an odd peace. I felt good, energized, refilled, satisfied. Yesterday, I didn’t worry, or have sad feelings. I didn’t question my relationships, or my insecurities as a human being. I didn’t think about the way the world is turning, or the huge amounts of hate dividing the country. I didn’t feel the frustration of a house that won’t sell or wish for progress or to have neighboring friends nearer to where I am, for something fun. I didn’t worry about my place in this new season called empty nesting, where people I love have left home on one end, and are leaving this world on the other.  I didn’t fear the unknown. I just enjoyed the day as I pondered the phrase, “broken heart.”

I remember being told by Dad, in my younger years of mothering, that there were times I would have “a broken heart.”  My thought was, me? Never.  I used to think, “weak” was a good synonym for broken heart, but that isn’t so. Many times, I’ve known a broken heart.  To have a broken heart means to be an active mother, sweetheart, or friend. To have a broken heart means to know love, trust, or compassion. To have a broken heart means to challenge yourself beyond what you see.  To have a broken heart means to feel and feel deeply.  There’s no weakness in any of that, only living, loving, and learning those wisdoms that come with all those experiences involved, the greatest being to allow yourself to be broken hearted with the understanding that broken hearts mend, if we choose not to tarry too long.

To be broken hearted, is simply to be. Sometimes, to simply be is okay.

To have a broken heart is to friend the broken heart of another, and that is just what makes the broken hearted...

 whole.

Copyright 2016 Lori Ries All Rights Reserved.