February is "heart month", so let me go ahead and remind you of a few things before we get to the important stuff.

Here we go: Achieve your ideal weight. Don't smoke. Exercise. Get adequate rest. Know your cholesterol number. Know your blood pressure. Consider taking one baby aspirin a day.

There. That's the advice you need to take care of your heart. But now we need to consider a much more important thing: taking care of your "metaphysical heart." This is the place where you live; your feelings, your emotions, your soul. You can't measure its functioning, or take its pulse. Yet, in the end, this "heart" is much more important than the one thumping in your chest. And while some of us neglect that heart, all too many of us neglect the care and nurturing of the former. I was reminded of that the other day.

Highway 11, the hypotenuse that connects I-26 with I-85, is an interesting stretch of asphalt. I was traveling down this road, heading to Rock Hill from the Hendersonville area. The morning was overcast; a dreary, cold day with the clouds threatening rain. I had passed through Fingerville and then Chesnee, successfully negotiating that potential speed trap. I was a few miles from the interstate when orange flashing lights and a "Road Work Ahead" sign slowed my progress. A few hundred yards away, I could see several utility vehicles pulled over on the right side of the road. As I slowed to 35 mph, I noticed several men standing around, watching two co-workers down in a ditch. They were intently studying an electrical connection of some sort.

As I passed this group, one of the orange-vested workers looked up at me while he leaned on his shovel. In the blink of an eye, I remembered the admonishment of my younger son, Jeff, to wave at passers-by. Acknowledge their existence. A wave, a smile. That's all it takes.

I waved as I passed, thinking that Jeff would be proud of me. The worker touched the front of his hard-hat, and I drove by.

Having gone only a short distance, I glanced toward the left side of the road and noticed a small country church a few hundred feet from the highway. The building was well kept, as were the grounds. The parking lot gave way to a cemetery, which stretched further down the road. There were a lot of stones, and it occurred to me that the church had been there for a while, and had buried many of its members.

As I came to the farthest end of the cemetery, only twenty or thirty feet from the road, I noticed a group of about two dozen people, most of whom where seated under a tent in rows of folding chairs. Behind this group, a few men stood in long coats, talking to each other. At the front of the tent was a casket, on the top of which lay a spray of white flowers. A man, I assumed a minister, stood in front of the casket. He held a small book in his hand.

Only a few weeks ago, I was sitting in a folding chair in just such a tent. The memory was fresh, and I was quickly taken back to that place.

As my car drew abreast of the tent, a teenage boy, sitting beside an elderly gentleman, looked up and then turned his head in my direction. Our eyes met, though only for an instant. I didn't wave at this young man, only nodded. And then my gaze returned to the road ahead.

It took another hour for me to get home. During that time, I drove in silence, and thought about the events I had just experienced. There was some meaning here, some lesson. To my mind, few things happen by coincidence.

As I drove into Rock Hill, I came to understand something. That morning on Highway 11 had revealed some truths about life, about our existence on this earth. Those utility workers and the family in the cemetery were connected, and represented different but very real parts of our lives. And yet there is always the potential for a disconnect, for spending our time in work or whatever, and forgetting that life is all-too-brief and that the tent and the folding chairs await each of us.

And that brings me back to the matter of our hearts. Sure, check your blood pressure and get your cholesterol measured. But more importantly, take care of what is most important. Your true heart. It needs attention, and nurturing, and care. And yes Jeff, smile and wave at strangers.