I woke to 40 degrees this morning. Last night, after seeing yesterday’s weather report, I covered some of my plants, those well up out of the ground. The apple tree was impossible to cover; leaving thousands of blossoms unprotected, except for being one with the branches. I wrap things like leftovers to keep them fresh, and use tools, like safety glasses to protect against harm. It’s a different story when it comes to covering my heart and mind. I protected my mind the last time I went to the motor vehicle’s office – repeating the statement, it’s OK if I have to come back. The most difficult, sometimes to the extent of impossible, is my heart. I’ve heard it said, I’ll never love again; a statement to protect the heart from ever experiencing heartbreak again after a breakup. When it comes to protecting my heart from losing my husband, a loss powerful enough to alter my world forever, there’s nothing. Nothing to wrap myself in, no tools, no statement, no reality, no thought. There’s nothing big enough to cover all of me, the apple tree, because he was woven, not just into my branches, but into every part of me.