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| << August10, 2006 - Hearts and Humor - Faith |
August18, 2006 - Hearts and Humor - Summer's End >> |
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I'm late again, gang. It's been a busy weekend and a very busy day at work. I did mange to get together a couple fo stories for you yeaterday. Here is the first one. Has your heart been broken? How did you mend it? I have my theory. Enjoy today's story. Mike How Do You Mend a Broken Heart Have you lost a love? Has a loved one gone to heaven or walked away from you? Do you feel alone? The pain is great. There is nowhere to turn. Your heart is broken. You sit in your chair, pondering your loss. The phone rings. It is a friend. "Hi! Are you OK?" You lie, "I'm fine." Why did you lie? You knew you weren't fine. "Are you sure?" they ask. "Yes, I'm fine." you lie again. You don't want to talk about it. They don't understand. I've experienced this. When my wife died, I felt alone. People would either stay away from me, afraid to talk about what happened, or offer awkward condolences. In their eyes I was different and in a way I was - my heart was broken. How do you mend a broken heart? The healing began at Georgia's service. I sat with tears in my eyes as those attending filed passed, shaking my hand or giving me a hug. My best friend, Bob, walked up with his three-year-old daughter, Abby. Bob gave me a hug and a pat on the back. Abby stood in front of me, reached up, put her arms around me, and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek. She turned to leave, hesitated, turned back, and reached up again. She placed her lips on my cheek again and blew, making a loud noise. Laughter erupted around us. Surprisingly, I found myself laughing along with them. Something happened in that moment, but at the time I didn't know what it was. Over the next few months my heart began to heal. I still hurt, but something was happening, my heart was mending. Every time someone gave me a meaningful hug, I felt a little better. If someone held my hand, touched my arm, or put an arm around my shoulder, and asked with sincerity, "Mike, how are you? Are you OK?" I would feel better, the crack in my broken heart seemed to close a little. Later I met and fell in love with Ginny. Each time she said, "I love you!" I healed. Each time we hugged, the crack got smaller. When people hug, their hearts are pulled close together, allowing the broken heart to mend. Little Abby hugged me. Her strong, young heart-threads, were the first to begin my healing process. The gap was so wide. My heart needed their strength first. With their support, other threads - those passed on by a kind touch, a gentle word, or a hug - began to pull the pieces of my heart together. As they did, I found I was able to give love again, something I was wasn't able to do for a long time. Ginny came into my life. She too had a heart on the mend. Love blossomed. Our heart threads intertwined, not only pulling the scattered pieces together, but combining our hearts as one. The healing was complete. The threads hold strong. There is love again. The only way to mend a broken heart is with the threads from another's. Michael T. Smith Please send your comments to mtsmith@qwestonline.com. How Do You Mend a Broken Heart Have you lost a love? Has a loved one gone to heaven or walked away from you? Do you feel alone? The pain is great. There is nowhere to turn. Your heart is broken. You sit in your chair, pondering your loss. The phone rings. It is a friend. "Hi! Are you OK?" You lie, "I'm fine." Why did you lie? You knew you weren't fine. "Are you sure?" they ask. "Yes, I'm fine." you lie again. You don't want to talk about it. They don't understand. I've experienced this. When my wife died, I felt alone. People would either stay away from me, afraid to talk about what happened, or offer awkward condolences. In their eyes I was different and in a way I was - my heart was broken. How do you mend a broken heart? The healing began at Georgia's service. I sat with tears in my eyes as those attending filed passed, shaking my hand or giving me a hug. My best friend, Bob, walked up with his three-year-old daughter, Abby. Bob gave me a hug and a pat on the back. Abby stood in front of me, reached up, put her arms around me, and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek. She turned to leave, hesitated, turned back, and reached up again. She placed her lips on my cheek again and blew, making a loud noise. Laughter erupted around us. Surprisingly, I found myself laughing along with them. Something happened in that moment, but at the time I didn't know what it was. Over the next few months my heart began to heal. I still hurt, but something was happening, my heart was mending. Every time someone gave me a meaningful hug, I felt a little better. If someone held my hand, touched my arm, or put an arm around my shoulder, and asked with sincerity, "Mike, how are you? Are you OK?" I would feel better, the crack in my broken heart seemed to close a little. Later I met and fell in love with Ginny. Each time she said, "I love you!" I healed. Each time we hugged, the crack got smaller. When people hug, their hearts are pulled close together, allowing the broken heart to mend. Little Abby hugged me. Her strong, young heart-threads, were the first to begin my healing process. The gap was so wide. My heart needed their strength first. With their support, other threads - those passed on by a kind touch, a gentle word, or a hug - began to pull the pieces of my heart together. As they did, I found I was able to give love again, something I was wasn't able to do for a long time. Ginny came into my life. She too had a heart on the mend. Love blossomed. Our heart threads intertwined, not only pulling the scattered pieces together, but combining our hearts as one. The healing was complete. The threads hold strong. There is love again. The only way to mend a broken heart is with the threads from another's. Michael T. Smith To read more of my stories, go to: http://archives.zinester.com/86758/ Now for comments from last week: Hi Mike, Laughed almost all the way through your account of learning to skydive. Maybe your intention was not to make it a funny story, but I did chuckle. Some of your apprehension and fear are the same emotions I experienced when I first learned to skydive many moons ago. But once up in the sky so high, isn't it an exhilarating feeling? Difficult to describe to someone who has never jumped out of an airplane themselves...like trying to describe what salt tastes like, but you did a splendid job of telling the details. At least you landed near the target. I didn't, plus I sprained an ankle because I totally forgot the proper landing position! If the hobby/sport was not so expensive (paying the pilot, renting the parachute, etc.), I'd probably still be doing it. It was great the way you made the connection with having faith in God or someone. I do hope your deep faith is in God in times of true crisis. Keep flying high, Sandi. ************* From a former co-worker and friend, who was there to see me take my first skydive. Hello Mike, Once again I am long overdue in sending you a note. I look forward to your weekly posts and enjoy reading each and every one. Many times I've said to myself I'll reply to "that" and before it happened, I was distracted and didn't get back before the moment was lost. Now on to skydiving. I vividly remember the day your jump took place. As you know, I wasn't one of the jumpers. Frances and I drove out to the field in the afternoon and arrived shortly before the actual jumps began. It was a beautiful day. That was before the age of digital cameras but I brought along a small Kodak and snapped a number of photos. At least one appeared in the company employee newsletter .... what was that called ? I think it was "Interface". Leigh |
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