What's the difference between a broken heart at 25 and a broken heart at 45? HA...sounds like a riddle, doesn't it? Sorry....no funny answers here. but it is different....on a number of levels, I think. Of course, we're dealing with a multitude of differences in this specific instance.
When my heart broke at 25, it shattered into a million different pieces....scattering here and there.....leaving me to wonder if it could ever be whole again. Not knowing then, what I know now...that once your heart is broken...and every time it breaks after that, your heart will never be whole again....it will be patched and held together by whatever forces you can muster to keep you going, but there will always be cracks and fissures and little tiny places that will never again be filled.. UNLESS, you learn to fill them with beautiful memories and hold those memories for what they are--- remembrances of wonderful times when hearts sang together.
At 25, we didn't know that a broken heart was an advanced degree. At 45, we know exactly that's what it is and we actively seek the reference points and the knowledge that assurance brings. We file it away in little folders of our brain and imprinted places near those empty heart spaces and we use it to live and love again....to remember....to hope.....to smile.
At 25, we thought we'd never love again. At 45, we remember all the loves that have come and stayed and come and gone. And we know that "love" means so much more than "romance"....that love is a sustaining force, to be found among those who potentially bring romance as well as those who assuredly bring laughter and friendship and processing partners and shopping sprees and mashed potatoes in hotels in Reno. Love is all around us, if we're willing to open up and let it in.
At 25 we didn't know the difference between romance and love...at 45 we are glad there is a difference!
At 25, we wept for ourselves and the loss of things...doing things.. and thinking that we would surely die.....at 45, we weep for the loss of potential and not doing, but "be"ing.... And we weep for the joy of knowing that we will live on....and that we've grown and learned and reveled in whatever happiness we had the time to enjoy.
At 25, we miss what we had, or thought we had.....at 45, we remember what we had.
At 25, we are quick to place blame and point fingers.....at 45, we know that there is no blame and all responsibilities are shared.
At 25, the clouds gather, the wind blows and the rains fall. At 45, we know that there is sunshine behind those clouds and that the wind blows away the dust and cobwebs and the rains wash away the dirt, leaving things shiny and fresh and ripe for new growth.
All in all...it's better to be 45! And so, the Celtic music desensitization project seems to be working....oh, the wistful, bittersweet smile remains...and will for a time, I'm sure....but the sun is peeking through and the winds are hopefully winds of change, blowing into and around my life...not just through my life. And the memory is this--- for a brief time, my soul opened a door, walked out and danced in the sunshine with one it recognized and knew. And the dance was beautiful...and the memory is warm.....and the promise was given.....and remains.....and while my soul rests in a quiet place, it knows that door actually opens....and you never know when it might open again....and the music will call...and a partner will be there....all again to dance in the sunshine.
© 1999
