A Divided Heart

This week my four year old started public school. The luck of the draw, or as I prefer to say the Maker’s hand, put her in the pre-k class at our local elementary school. So on Monday morning we woke her before the sun and put her on the school bus. KP stayed in town for the occasion and then caught a late morning flight back to his client site.

Before they left, my house, and my person, felt complete. Now it feels as if parts of my heart are elsewhere. My husband packed up and placed a piece of me in his suitcase. My schoolgirl lugged a piece up those bus stairs for the first time. And both traveled in different directions.

Everyone tells you that the first day you watch your child leave on the bus is poignant. After three years of schooling at a local church, I thought watching AP leave would be bittersweet and exciting, but didn’t expect this. And KP? He leaves every week. He has for nearly a year now. I’m used to the fact that his commute involves crossing multiple states in an airplane.

But suddenly both were gone at once, and both in situations I couldn’t control. I don’t drive the bus and I can’t fly the plane. I’m not a teacher and I’m not a consultant. I’m the one leaving the light on out front. Waiting on the return of those I love, one by one.

Today is the third day of school and the wound in my heart has scabbed over. The ache remains but it’s dull now. MP has proved an excellent physician. It doesn’t hurt that she is currently in a “let’s play doctor” stage. She is offering bandages and medicine around the clock. Time with my little healer gives me a chance to reflect on this change.

I love to travel. I love adventure. Yet I’ve never really stopped to think about the fact that every time I go anywhere, or embark on a new phase in life, I may be packing a piece of someone’s heart along with my necessities. I know my mom’s is in there. Kevin too. And now my children’s join the mix. I’m not used to being the one who stays behind. It’s humbling. It’s a little lonely. It’s also defining. And currently my heart is reshaping itself for letting go.

            Today it’s the bus, tomorrow it’s the same mission trip to a developing country I just took a bunch of teenagers on this summer. And I want those things for my children. I also want my husband to love what he does and to support him wherever he goes.

This spring I started a Couch to 5K program. I’ve never run in my life and thought it was about time. Over the course of the program, I conditioned myself to run just over three miles. It was a slow and steady approach. But now I can run it without feeling like my heart is going to burst out of my chest.  I realize this week is just the beginning of a lifetime of conditioning my heart to be divided amongst those I love, wherever they are. The thing is, it sounds painful, and indeed it can be. But there’s also a tremendous amount of joy. And I’ll take one for the other.