A piece of my heart

Sometimes all it takes is a license plate...

And I'm transported back to my time in Arizona:

A time of sunrises, hikes, and outdoor school walkways.
A time of mountains and red rock, magnificent colors and cacti.
A time of Salesian Sisters and Holy Cross priests.
A time when 2 hours chatting around the dinner table was normal.
A time when even though I was so far from home I never felt more at home.

Damn you, Arizona license plate. Why must you make me get all teary-eyed on my way to Mass last night? I can't quite put my finger on it (though the list above gives some idea of what I left behind), but there's a part of my heart that lives on and remains out there. (How does it survive that Arizona dry heat?!) There's a part of me that will never be the same because of all of the experiences and people I met while serving during and post-ACE.

And, I believe it's like that for all of us - wherever we go, we leave a little piece of ourselves, and when our hearts try to patch up and heal, they never grow back to exactly how they used to be...