“Heartbreak is a Legacy or Perhaps…”

Janet's logo textA long time ago I was told, compassionately, that sometimes heartbreak will live within us for a lifetime. I accept this premise, yet when heartbreak becomes legacy, well that’s a horse of a different color.

Our first heartbreak is as we leave the caretaking of a mother’s womb and progresses from there: but the form it takes differs for each of us. Therefore, if heartbreak is truly a given why should we care about IT?

We should care because when heartbreak rules our persona—and doesn’t just stand as a lesson learned—we become THE HEARBREAK and that legacy keeps us from living a perhaps life. Perhaps had this or that heartbreak not made me—go ahead, list your justifications here.   

Heartbreak is both adversary and ally and we ought to choose how or if it presides over life.

“I WONDER…”

typewriter_legswtypewriter_sample_img_2WONDER is a word that means: be unsure or marvel or doubt. These three descriptors seem at odds and yet identify the essence of the word Wonder. So I wonder: Was I then and am I now unsure of where I’ve been and where I’m headed?  I marvel at my accomplishment and also experience remorse for dreams blown away on hurricane winds. Yes, every choice I made came with doubt. But, if the truth be told, the choices I was too afraid to make I now mourn.

On our Earth, in the Year 2013, all humankind Wonder: How is it the foundation beneath what we thought were our Motherlands are war-torn in every sense of that word? The development of social media allows us access to on-the-spot heartbreak as we watch our sisters and brothers in doubt. It’s then—if the truth be told—the choices we were too afraid to make before we can either make now or forever mourn.

“HEARTBREAK IS NEVERENDING…”

Call it what you will: tragedy, heartbreak, disturbing or misfortune: words we use to define the indefinable—a living evil that permeates the few and affects the many. What caught the attention of my soul’s heartache was the young man who was murdered in a Colorado movie theater; there to celebrate his 27th birthday.

Our brother Peter was also murdered. He was living in California at the time (1971) attending a rock concert. “Killed” the police said “because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. What!  That’s it, that’s all there is? Five days later we buried him—on his twenty-seventh birthday.

Forty-one years later we, his family, still ask “Why, What and Wonder who he might have been.  What we truly miss: his laugh, complex ways, voice, smell and how we might be different had he lived.

So, heartbreak, whatever the reason, is mankind’s truest never-ending story.