In seven days, my girlfriend, Sharon, and I visited with 13 people on what I’m now calling our “Hearts on Fire” tour of Florida. We followed a plan to get together with family and friends we hadn’t seen in a collective 56 years since they had moved to the Sunshine State.

Our first stop was in Land o’ Lakes to see Sharon’s brother, John, and his wife, Dorrie. After formalities, we all shared stories about our difficult childhoods and we wondered what might have been if our emotional insecurities had been a concern to our parents.

The four of us sat in a room with a beautiful view of a pond surrounded by palm trees. We began to talk about one of our mothers who gave the lion’s share of her love to only one of her four children. I talked about my father who gave little of his time and attention to help me grow into a man. Yet we came to an understanding that our mothers and fathers weren’t bad people who took some kind of sadistic joy in ignoring our feelings. They just didn’t know any better.

In his book, “The Five People You Meet in Heaven,” Mitch Albom wrote, “All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair.”

As kids, we baby boomers were told by our parents, “Be grateful that we put a roof over your head, food on your table, and clothes on your back.” Somebody in the room said, “I could get the same three things in an orphanage.” Mothers cooked and cleaned the house. Fathers went to work. That was that. We little people had no one to chase away the monsters that lived under our beds.

When we left their home, John told Sharon he loved her, words from a brother to his sister that is helping them to realize the true meaning of family.

Our next stop was in Melbourne, Florida, where we spent an overnight with Sara and Charlie in their beautiful home. Sara was a teacher and a colleague of mine for over 30 years. She took a special interest in me and supported my efforts in both the classroom and on the high school football and baseball fields where I had been a coach. She was married to a wonderful man for a long time before he had suffered from a job loss and then passed away unexpectedly. Through all her grief, Sara, my sister from another mother, never once wavered in her purpose. She showered her students with love and lessons about life. Many continue to express their gratitude to her for the impact she has had upon them.

Into her world then stepped Charlie, a retired widower. It didn’t take Sara long before she said, “They say most people don’t get a second chance to be in love, but I am one of the fortunate few who did.” Within the hours we stayed at their home, I felt a strong comfort level in Charlie’s presence. I understand why Sara smiles whenever she speaks about him.

From their driveway, we drove south to Boynton Beach where I reunited with my Aunt Dolly, Uncle Steve, and my cousins, Bobby, whose beloved wife of more than 40 years died in November, and Theresa, who had also come to visit us with her husband, Harvey.

American actor David Ogden Stiers said, “Family means that nobody gets left behind or forgotten.” My mother was Dolly’s older sister separated by 16 years. I hadn’t seen this side of my family in nearly 40 years, but about 16 seconds after we had entered their home, Sharon and I knew we weren’t guests anymore. We were family.

There was talk about how sickness, job loss and alcohol destroyed any chance my parents had of living the American dream, but when we watched a slideshow with my cousins and me at birthday and holiday parties, I had forgotten that I had a few good times, too.

At the end of the day, I hugged and kissed my beautiful Aunt Dolly and my favorite uncle, Steve, again. I could feel my heart skip a beat. Now, family blood flows through them from Florida into me in Pennsylvania. As I write this column on a cold February afternoon, I can still feel their warm love from 1,200 miles away.

The final stop of our nostalgic tour was a two-day visit with Dan, his wife, Annette, and their sons, James and Jesse in Boca Raton. Dan and I coached Little League Baseball in Jim Thorpe and a travel team together before he took an employment opportunity and moved to Florida where he is known for the mantra he lives by. “Focus. Hard Work. Commitment. Belief.” These words became the motivational force behind his successful baseball teams as well as his road map for living a rewarding and happy life.

Once at the bottom of a moneyless pit that had burdened himself and his family to the point of serious financial despair, Dan rebuilt his confidence through baseball and with the help of his loving wife, Annette. Today, his magnetic influence upon others is immediate and sustaining. I am proud to call him my friend.

We returned home to the Pocono cold with our hearts on fire and a much clearer understanding of how we can heal through the will of extraordinary courage and the invincible power of love.

At the end of “The Five People You Meet in Heaven,” Albom writes, “Each affects the other and the other affects the next, and the world is full of stories, but the stories are all one.”

The stories we shared in Florida were our stories, but they’re yours, too. No matter the age we are, when we have family and friends to help us chase away those monsters from under our beds, we can finally live with peace of mind.

Rich Strack can be reached at richiesadie11@gmail.com.