Strong

I was thinking, tonight, about what part of me is the strongest.

My first thought? My legs. I have used them to lift half the weight of a piano when moving it across the room. Yes, my legs are very strong. The problem? They are attached to my feet! My Achille's feet that fail me at the most improbable moments for reasons I sometimes never know.

Perhaps, then, my arms? Actually my arms are not particularly strong. They are good at hugging people and pull their fair share in hauling books and boxes when I move, but I cannot work over my head for any length of time at all. My arms must be upfront to be particularly useful in any situation.

So perhaps it is something inside of me that is strong. My stomach! I have a cast iron stomach that can probably hold twice its weight in food. Yet, should I be nervous about something, or concerned, my stomach fails me completely.

The next thing that comes to mind is my heart. My doctors have continually worried about my heart. My blood pressure flies up with just the thought that it is being measured. Tiny murmurs whisper through the stethoscope and set my doctor's ears on fire, but the truth is much different. Stress tests and sonograms show a heart that could win the Grand Prix. My heart is strong!

But so is my brain. It never sleeps, creating intricate dreams all night long and working overtime during the day. All the while continuing to keep the rest of me alive and functioning. My brain may be even stronger than my heart. But it is a chatterbox, that is for sure.

So if I had to rely on one part of me to be my defender and protector, what would it be?

I think it will require a running conversation with the things held most dearly for quite some time before I know the answer to this one.