Heart Failure(s)

Recently, two close family members—one older, one much younger—were each diagnosed with heart failure. This news hit hard, bringing back memories of my own heart struggles during the turbulent years of my marriage.

For my older family member, this diagnosis has prompted a reassessment of life. It sparked a desire to reconnect, to mend relationships, and to speak honestly. Long-held grudges now seem insignificant. There is an urgency to repair emotional rifts and to cherish the moments we have with one another.

In contrast, my younger family member, facing the early stages of heart disease, feels a different urgency. This diagnosis stirred a determination to not wait to create the life they want. They are making changes now, understanding the heart can heal itself with the right care—medically, physically, and emotionally.

Their journeys remind me of my own encounter with heart troubles. During the last years of my marriage, the weight of unspoken sorrow and relentless stress began to manifest in my body. Weight gain. Insomnia. Unrelenting anxiety. Each of these symptoms a plea for attention and care I continually ignored.

One early morning, my heart faltered, and I ended up in the emergency room with an erratic heartbeat. I needed to be shocked back into a normal rhythm. Lying in that small, sterile cot, I realized my heart had been trying to communicate its distress for years.

I had ignored my body’s signals, clinging to a life and relationship that were no longer sustainable. The constant stress and emotional burden had taken a physical toll, manifesting in my heart’s rebellion.

Leaving my marriage was necessary— yet it meant stepping into an uncertain future.

Rebuilding my life was a slow and often painful journey. Gradually, the constant anxiety that plagued me began to lift, replaced by a peace I hadn't felt in years.

Many, many months later, during what would be my final cardiologist visit, the specialist confirmed what I’d begun to sense: my heart was healthier and, dare I say it, at peace again.

“The heart knows,” were his exact words.

Reflecting on my family members’ diagnoses, I see heart failure(s) as metaphors for our emotional journeys. Glennon Doyle’s words in Untamed come to mind: “Pain is not tragic. Pain is magic. Suffering is tragic. Suffering is what happens when we avoid pain and consequently miss our becoming.”

Pain speaks to us. It forces us to reflect on our own heart failures and, whether we want to or not, to make necessary changes.

My two family members are embracing the transformative power of pain. The older one seeks to reconnect and find peace in relationships, while the younger one is motivated to create a life of health and fulfillment.

The heart knows.