A broken heart is an open heart
It was a beautiful sunny morning when I felt the urge to make the 45-minute drive to my hometown of Weaverville.
Although it’s not a far jaunt from Waynesville, I haven’t visited much since my dad sold the house he shared with my mom. Something that day was luring me into the past.
With the windows rolled down, a warm breeze floated through the car while lead singers from one of my favorite bands, Mipso, massaged my eardrums. I was overwhelmed with a sense of longing to feel what I can only describe as “home.” I’ve learned in my seven years of missing my mom that anyone or anything can feel like home as long as it offers safety and connection.
On this particular day, I felt compelled to visit my childhood home and old schools and other favorite places, even the little white house where I took piano lessons every Wednesday.
To begin with, I drove to the building that once housed Skate-A-Around USA. Many of my girlhood and adolescent memories involved this skating rink. It’s currently a Dickie’s Food Super Store, but that doesn’t matter. The soul of a place never dies. I walked inside and was transported back to 1988. The brick perimeter walls are the exact same. Even the bathrooms haven’t changed in all these years. Although the place is now stocked with groceries, I could still envision the food bar, arcade, DJ stand and skate rental area. The floor is the same old cement and the distinctive curvature of the back wall transported me to evenings of limbo competitions and dimming the lights for a couples skate.
My next stop was Lake Louise where we used to congregate for prom pictures or late night shenanigans. By “shenanigans,” I mean innocently getting food from McDonalds and sitting on swings in the dark while devouring French fries and milkshakes. I also hiked the little trail adjacent to the lake which leads to a portion of Reems Creek where my friends and I would frolic during the summer months.
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I then drove to the neighborhood where we lived until I was 14 years old. My childhood house looks the same, albeit much smaller in my adult eye and with a new paint color. When I was a little girl, the small cul-de-sac seemed huge, a massive blank slate where my sister and I painted cities with sidewalk chalk and rode our bikes around the circle for hours stopping at the hand drawn mall and the diner and the hair salon. I yearned to walk into the backyard and see if the stones of our pet cemetery were still there, but I didn’t want to interrupt my sentimental day with a trespassing violation.
At this point, my contacts were dried out from crying. The release of emotion felt good, but tears are not good for contacts, so I ventured over to Main Street and stopped at Prescription Pad of Weaverville to purchase some rewetting drops. The pharmacy was the post office when I was young and the original drug store of the town is now the popular Well-Bred Bakery and Cafe. A lot has changed through the years.
These were just a few of my adventures that day. It was special and nostalgic to stop by some of my old haunts. I also noticed a lot of new restaurants and businesses. One little establishment called Yellow Mug Coffee Lounge piqued my interest so I stopped there for lunch. The place was alive with positive energy and I thought, “What a perfect addition to Weaverville.” Through the years I’ve loved watching and hearing about my little mountain town evolve into a bustling WNC hot spot.
Driving around, I continued listening to Mipso. They just released a new album called Book of Fools. The fourth song on Mipso’s new song is called “Broken Heart/Open Heart,” which includes these lyrics:
How do you keep on living
When someone you love dies?
It doesn’t get easy, it’s gonna stay hard
But a broken heart is an open heart
If you’re looking at the lucky ones
And you’re wondering why not you
You can trust that when it’s raining
It’s raining on them too
It doesn’t get easy, it’s gonna stay hard
But a broken heart is an open heart
These words reminded me that the cyclic grief I experience over my mom’s passing and the sadness of no longer having a physical home to visit have both broken and opened my heart. It’s been hard but has also given me wisdom I appreciate and honor.
Finally, since I was in the vicinity of Trader Joe’s, I did some grocery shopping. As I was walking out the door, I heard one patron say to another, “Everyone is struggling with something.” It felt like a serendipitous thing to overhear, especially considering my full-circle day. We are all struggling with something and in remembering that, we can fully open our hearts and let them feel compassion and love instead of comparison and loneliness.
(Susanna Shetley is a writer, editor and digital media specialist with The Smoky Mountain News, Smoky Mountain Living and Mountain South Media.)
