I have hearts scattered all over the world.
One of my dearest hearts is in Sweden, another in Philadelphia, one in Connecticut and my own mirror-image half (my identical twin sister) in a different part of Ohio.
I have a few scattered locally across the town where I live too—special souls who I don’t get to visit with often enough.
But, lately, I feel like there is never enough time in one lifetime to visit with these people who mean the most to us.
I haven’t moved around as much as some people have. Still, I’ve lived in a few different spots in three different states, and I’ve met really, really good friends wherever I’ve been.
And some friendships fade away—they exist for a moment to make us better people, to challenge us, to prepare us for what’s to come.
Yet I refuse to spend even an hour talking on the phone to these—the closest of my hearts; the people I love and miss the most—when my own little four-year-old girl wants to play puzzles with me again for the twentieth time that day.
No, for me, friendships are strongest when they understand that we don’t have to check in every other week, but, equally, our durable connection is just as powerful when we do get opportunities to engage.
Because life is quickly moving—I look at my two-month-old baby and cannot fathom how eight weeks have already passed since her birth.
So when this holiday season approaches, and my heart is full with love to give, I have to hope that these scattered hearts know how dear and meaningful they are to me, even if I don’t call every day or send emails more than a few times a year.
And the time will come when my children are grown and they, also, are scattered hearts—and, like my own mother now, I’ll have to be understanding that they cherish me even if my phone doesn’t ring every other day.
And, though my heart is scattered in these places all over the world, the one that beats inside of my chest is so very, very full.
Photo: Flickr/Jar of Hearts.