Love, Loss and the Loco Lady

I'm two semesters away from my Bachelor's Degree in Psychology (Yay me!) and relatively certain that I chose this major in a "Heal thyself" type of thing. Yeah, I'm a little bit crazy. 

I love really deeply and experience loss of love really profoundly. And, no, this isn't a post about my divorce from my first husband. 

My BFF when I was 5 years old was a 6 year old down the street. We did everything together. She was my idol. So the last day of summer we were so excited to go to school the next day. It was a day like every other day of that great summer. But the VERY next day when I got to kindergarten, she joined a bunch of the other 1st Graders in chanting "Kindergarten Baby, born in the gravy" when I walked by. (WTH does "born in the gravy mean, anyway?") 

That was the first time I got my heart broken and started to learn a little bit about loving people who might not be around twenty years from now, twenty days from now, or even twenty minutes from now. 

A bunch of boys broke my heart in the ensuing years, but only one or two them did semi-permanent damage to my heart. 

My Mom's death. That one was worse than kindergarten or the 16-year old cowboy. 

And somehow, in the back of my mind, there's always this little niggling fear that if I love someone TOO much, they will disappear. One way or another. To cooler friends or prettier girls or to heaven.

Well, in spite of my resolve to protect my heart, I love someone a WHOLE bunch right now. Probably more deeply and sincerely than I've ever loved another soul. 

And he's going in for surgery on Thursday. 

I'm terrified that I love him too much and something tragic will happen during his operation. 

I'm going to the temple tomorrow morning to pray for the very best, to put his name and the doctor's  name on the prayer rolls. My hope is that this November isn't like the one in 1987, the one in 1989 or the one in 2009. Yeah, I want this one to be different.