My heart has earned it’s fair share of scars; with each one changing the landscape. Scars, etched like deep canyons, map the path of searing grief that followed the loss of my father on Father’s Day, years ago. The initial impact left a devastation and scorched the love and replaced it with immense pain, anger, and even bitterness. But like the mighty Redwoods, giants that depend on the controlled burn for the health of the forest, my heart too has begun a strange, unexpected healing.
The embers of grief still flickering, a constant reminder of the loss that was carved into the canyons of my soul. Yet, amidst the charred remains, I am sensing a shift. New growth begins to push up through the ash. It’s fragile resilience, a testament to the endurance of the human spirit.
The scars have forever changed the topography, but it is not unrecognizable. Shifting the grief to compassion, empathy, and showing that the heart is forever capable of love. The memories and tender moments that I shared with my father are finding their way back to the surface and germinating growth.
Scars may mark the landscape of my heart, but wildflowers of acceptance are starting to bloom and I couldn’t be more excited for it!
Commentaires