A Beating heart is music to the soul.

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Take your hand and place it over your heart.   Tune out the world for a moment and listen to the inside rhythm of your being.  Close your eyes and imagine this remarkable organ taking in the musical notes of your body and pumping back out the melody of your soul.  With each heart beat, blood is sent to every part of your being.  Look upon your fingers, your toes.. gaze upon your face in the mirror.  You are alive because of the beating of your heart.   Every vein, every artery, every cell is nourished because of this incredible machine within you working every second of every day to keep you on this earth.  When I was an avid cyclist, I prided myself in only being fueled by my heart and lungs.. Who needed a car when I had those two free incredible sources of renewable energy?

When we are babies our parents often lay us atop of their own hearts when we sleep.   When Sean and I were dating in high school he would often place his hand atop of my heart when we had conversations.   As an adult I would look back on our relationship and always found it remarkable that a teenage boy would do that.  When we reconnected as adults seventeen years later and established a relationship- he once again placed his hand on my heart during a conversation.  He looked me in the eyes and said “My heart is inside your heart, so always take care of it”.  When we said our vows of marriage, we placed our hands on one anothers hearts.   Since then, whenever  we would find ourselves uprooted we would become once again grounded by the simple act.

On October 8th, My heart worked in over time. The rhythm of my being was in panic mode. My heart struggled at war and pumped as hard as it could to keep me going, until my music had completely run out.  When countless strangers worked tirelessly to make my heart pump once again, my body lay in a  what seemed like a hopeless state.  As medical staff “refilled my tank”, per the words of my trauma surgeon.. My heart finally responded to the compressions of so many tireless hands and began beating once again.  My “tank” as Dr. Baumgaertner refers to it,  continued to bleed dry and CPR and much needed blood donations were once again needed. The very act of grounding and compassion, love, and strength of hands being laid upon my heart was being done with a force unlike my heart had ever known.. and today I type this blog with a beating heart… full of heroes I will never know..

Last night, panic settled back into my heart and my heart struggled with flashbacks of CPR, Death, operations, being in a coma, and the horrid memories of the force of that large freight truck.  I awoke in a pool of sweat and fear.  “Sean, please place your hand on my heart.. I need to get my music back in tune”, I asked with a soft and tattered whisper.. “Remember, my heart is in your heart, so when your heart is weak I am here to help it be strong”, he said with a tender voice.

We never know what tomorrow brings.  We never know how the winds of change will blow, however we do know we all have an incredible rhythm from our own hearts.  As the morning sun beams through my dining room windows warming my face and chilled fingers I am reminded of the incredible music given to me from so many blood donors which now fills the orchestra of my soul.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart..

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