Dear Heart

There are some days I will never forget, and the day my dad had open heart surgery is one of them. He was in Nashville, and I was in Chattanooga. Only two hours away by car, but it felt like a million miles separated us that day. I talked to Daddy the night before on the phone, and I told him I loved him. He said he was scared, and I told him that everything was going to be OK. He told me to tell Matt that he loved him, and I told him he could tell him when he got home. Daddy was crying, and so was I. Daddy was scared, and so was I. I knew there were things he wanted to tell me, and he knew there were things I wanted to tell him. But there wasn't enough time that night because the surgery was early the next morning. Daddy said goodbye, and I told him I would see him soon.

I didn't sleep much that night, and I learned later that Daddy didn't either. I spent a lot of time that night praying for him, and I learned later that he spent a lot of time that night praying for Mom and me and Sis and Tommy. Sis called to tell me when Daddy went into surgery, and I prayed all day. I prayed for his heart to keep beating. I prayed for his heart to stay strong. I prayed for his doctor's hands to be steady. I prayed for my son to have the chance to know his grandfather's heart. I prayed for Daddy to live. I prayed that God wouldn't take him because of who I was. I prayed for his heart to keep beating. I prayed for his heart to stay strong. I prayed for my Daddy to live. And he did. 

My heart is heavy tonight ... it's been heavy for a while. As I walked with Ollie today in the late afternoon, the blustery wind cut through my sweatshirt like a knife. The clouds that covered the sky were gray, and the air was cold. It was when I whispered, "My heart hurts, God ... my heart hurts," that I began to think about the day of Daddy's heart surgery. And I remembered Daddy saying he needed to have a talk with his heart. And I thought about what I prayed that day. And I thought about having a talk with my own heart and what I would say. 

Dear Heart,

I know you're hurting. A lot. And I know you've been hurting for a while. I know you feel like the pain will never end. But it will. You need to believe me. It will. You and I are in this together and I know the hurting will end one day. You've hurt before, and you kept beating. You've ached before, and you stayed strong. The Doctor's hands are steady. C.J. needs to know the real you. I know you're hurting. I know you will get better. I know you're tired. I know you will get rested. Keep beating. Stay strong. Live."

(I'm taking a break from writing for at least a couple of days, friends, and maybe a little longer. I need some time to think about some things and make some decisions. Take care of one another and be kind to each other. See you soon.)