This Valentine’s Day we shook it up. The decades-old tradition of having a heart-shaped Boston pizza was replaced with an adventure to a new restaurant in a funky community of our city. We enjoyed a pre-drink at a nearby bar and met up with family to enjoy a night of libations and good Italian food.  Yes, the boys had pizza. I chose a Caesar salad. All in all, the night was worthy of the pre-planning fuss.

Also new to this year’s celebration was a Galentine happy hour with a couple of my closest friends. A wonderful evening where we ‘got real’ with each other related to our dreams and fears of our own life and that of our children.

As I packed away the décor, and the cards received, I thought about my heart, the heart of my sweet friends, the heart of my family and wondered if our true Valentine might not be another person but rather our own heart. How do we nurture our heart?  How do we honor our own capacity to receive and to give love. If your heart was a person, what would you say to it?

To My Broken Heart,

Every day, with every breath, I know you are broken. I recognize you are the carrier of the pain of all my losses. You did not cause the anguish I live with and yet, you continue to beat within me. Shattered, you continue to bring life to me each morning.

Most days I am filled with anger, raising your temper to remind me that I must slow down, I must rest or you will explode. I am aware that you are struggling with my inability to listen and yet you don’t give up on me.  You continue to beat.

Some days I can feel a tiny spark from you that wakes my soul. Those moments are my favorite, the quiet ones where alone, I sense this light. The light where the hope you are offering peeks through. A gentle soft glow connecting me to the other realm, to those I have lost.  Yours is a crowded place of many loved ones to which you embrace each of their spirit within you.

I am aware that you, my dear heart, are the source of energy to keep love alive. Broken and bruised, you continue to have me experience small moments of joy to be found in nature or in conversation with a good friend. These moments I find myself smiling. I believe these glimpses are what sustains you, the recognition of my soul wanting more.

More of what may heal you. More quiet connections, more rest, more inward conversations with you. More gratitude for you, continuing to go on despite all the challenges you face. My sweet, faithful heart, thank you for all that you do that gives me another day.

In grief we talk about the potential results, the agony of living with an angry broken heart. Science doesn’t need to tell us that it brings illness, both mental and physical. We live with it. Perhaps if we could see our torn-up heart as a Valentine, rather than a body muscle, our attitude could shift. Giving our heart a persona, giving gratitude that this Valentine is always here, ensuring we are here.

Our heart, a Valentine that carries for us, both grief and love. A Valentine that holds our secrets and dreams. A Valentine that brings us the opportunity to feel all the surrounding wonders of this life. That is a Valentine to celebrate each year.