My twins and I watched the movie about Secretariat. He was a horse who won the Triple Crown. One of the intriguing things about his style was that for the first three quarters of the race he was often at the back of the pack. For ninety seconds of a two minute race he was losing. This was stressful for his owner, Penny, to watch. She had invested a great deal in this horse and she believed in him. Still she had trouble sustaining hope when he was far behind. 

 

But in the last thirty seconds of the race, he would crank up the speed, pull ahead of the other thoroughbreds, and win. Penny cheered madly each time he did this, throwing her arms around anyone within reach. In the Kentucky Derby, he actually accelerated in each quarter mile, rather than slowed with exhaustion. 

 

I read about Secretariat on Wikipedia. Apparently his heart was enormous. Through a genetic condition known as the x factor, Secretariat's heart was 2 3/4 times as large as an ordinary horse. This came in handy when the jockey was pushing him to perform at a higher level than ever before. 

 

Last week I read about a man who spent most of his life unable to express his feelings for his family. His wife grieved the absence of endearments, and wondered if he truly loved her. Still she remained faithful to him, and to their children. It was not until her husband was in his seventies that his affections began to spill out. He played with his granddaughter in a way that he had not with his own children. His grown daughter watched the shift with wonder. Perhaps she let jealousy seep into her mind, wishing that she had known this tender side of her father when she was growing up. But it quickly gave way to the more magnanimous feeling of gratitude, as she savored the joy of her little girl laughing with Grandpa. 

 

I listened to another woman who spoke about the final years before her husband died. She reflected on the many decades of their marriage when compassion was in short supply.  But near the end, as her husband suffered from failing health, she felt a surge of sweetness emerge in their joint efforts to cope. She did not seem to feel gypped that it had taken so long to arrive at a place of intimacy. It mattered more how they finished, than how the marriage began. 

 

I can easily picture their reunion in a short time, when she too transitions to heavenly life. She will cheer madly and throw her arms around his neck. I can even believe that since an angel's heart is larger than an ordinary human's, their capacity for closeness will accelerate into forever.

 

Photo by Andy Sullivan

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