"This is from Kristine," said my mother as she handed me the hard-covered copy. "She signed it for you and would love for you to give a review when you're finished reading it." I swallowed hard as I looked at the teal cover. I could see what looked to me like a heart shaped leaf under a microscope. Every cell was outlined looking as if each one had it's own history -- and yet it was transparent, as you could see straight through it. "Thank you," I said sincerely, but inside I was standing like a deer in headlights.
Divorce is a corrupt type of death. Even though the person is alive, you have to go through a grieving process. At times it can be a very difficult task to stand far from the bitterness and stay close to the humility where healing begins.
I recall going to my Chiropractor in these early days. I was bent over in physical pain. After examining me she looked worried and asked, "What happened to you? You have all the indications of a serious car accident. What has happened?" After explaining my situation the Dr. put me on an intense machine that would help eliminate some of the pain. After 45 mins there was no change and the Dr. appeared twice as concerned. At that point I knew there was only one place to go to heal -- and that would be on my knees several times a day.
I was all too familiar with grief. Kristine's book title alone sent my heart to an immediate memory of the raw and undulating pain that accompanies this growing season. I remember being bent over one day with the weight of so much emotion and at the same time physically feeling that my heart was literally breaking in pieces. There couldn't be a more vivid title to explain that moment.
So I skimmed a chapter here and there. If it looked like it was going to be sad, I passed over it. Now when anyone asked, I could say 'yes...yes...I've read the book'. Which of course was only partly true. Then mom called a few days ago...
"I just had lunch with Kristine and she was asking if you had finished the book..." By this time my integrity got the better of me, and I curled up on my thinking couch (that's our red sofa) and prepared myself to receive the lessons I had learned long ago.
There is a quote by Moliere that I have engraved in my soul (and on our fridge and on this blog and on my facebook). 'The heart can do anything'. I don't own much jewelry, but I do like to wear a heart necklace to remind me of this truth. Kristine's touching book rekindled that certainty.
In heart-broken open I participated once again in the cleansing powers of grief. As Kristine took me through her refining fire, I walked with her and marveled at the miracle of renewal and the divine nature of what our very hearts are composed of. Each cell does tell a story and opens our eyes to transparent clarity. Yes, the heart truly can do anything.
Thank you Kristine. (And I really mean it this time) X