Full Heart, Broken Heart

We typically have less than a hundred years to experience life in this iteration. We know that this version will end because we’ve seen death up close. Our very existence is contradictory in nature–to live while we know death and loss are inevitable and imminent. When Bryan was diagnosed with prostate cancer, we had a clearer vision of that truth that made our decisions more deliberate. It helps me understand better his need to throw himself down the side of mountains at high speed. 🙂

I haven’t written in a while because I’ve been trying to live deliberately and maybe ignore more sorrow for a hot minute which writing certainly digs into. My garden is in full splendor and it gives me incredible joy. I have one spot where I can see life and color and promise. It fills my heart. I’ve had the pleasure of helping Mary with hers and I love that she seeks that joy too. Time with her is one of the best things I know. She and her housemate came over to make pesto and bagels again last night. Watching her at the stove reminds me of Bryan. Full heart. Broken heart.

My sister has been here for a month to recover from a pretty heinous health scare. She’s doing much better and heads back to work half-time this week. I’ve so enjoyed her company and I’m really sad to see her leave. Full heart. Broken heart.

And there are stories of friends and loved ones that don’t belong to me, but I am witness to heartbreak that my over-developed-empathy-gene makes sure kicks me in the gut, too. Maybe that’s why I am always looking for the laugh, the smile, shared joy nuggets, and gratitude. Broken hearts. Full hearts.