Scars
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The first scar of consequence formed when I was two. I had a ceramic coffee mug in my hand and was running. Needless to say, I tripped and fell and it broke from me landing on it. I have another one just into my hairline that I received at about age 4 after jumping up onto the counter and cracking my head on the cabinet door corner. Bled profusely, no stiches though. Countless scars on top of scars on my knees, elbows and hands from things like falling, poison ivy, chicken pox, rollerskating, bike riding bug bites, scrapes and scratches.
As I got older, I became less clumsy and scars became more memorable. The inch long mark left on my knee after running myself over with the lawnmower the first time I ever mowed the lawn. No stitches on that one either, amazingly enough. The one on my shin I got from a rigor on a shell while lifting it out of the water after the first crew race we ever won as a varsity team. The small white spot on my thigh that used to be a mole, was ripped off in the throws of being yanked around on an inner tube on Lake Gaston at 30 miles an hour.
Then came the scars you can't see. The ones inside that happen after healing from moving away from best friends or them moving away from me. The death of my friend from alcohol poisoning, the passing of my grandparents or loss of my first dog, Cocoa. From the grieving over betrayal of my cheating boyfriend, or the simple loss of love of which I had no control.
Then there are the happy scars. Like one from both my Cesarean Sections after my baby boys were born. The stretch marks the pregnancies left on my stomach (okay ,well those I could do without..LOL!) or the scar on my arm that appeared after jumping into the pool after my oldest to rescue him from drowning in the deep end.
To you, these may look like imperfections, to me it's what doesn't kill you makes you stronger and I'm grateful for every one because it makes me who I am today. ;0)
As I got older, I became less clumsy and scars became more memorable. The inch long mark left on my knee after running myself over with the lawnmower the first time I ever mowed the lawn. No stitches on that one either, amazingly enough. The one on my shin I got from a rigor on a shell while lifting it out of the water after the first crew race we ever won as a varsity team. The small white spot on my thigh that used to be a mole, was ripped off in the throws of being yanked around on an inner tube on Lake Gaston at 30 miles an hour.
Then came the scars you can't see. The ones inside that happen after healing from moving away from best friends or them moving away from me. The death of my friend from alcohol poisoning, the passing of my grandparents or loss of my first dog, Cocoa. From the grieving over betrayal of my cheating boyfriend, or the simple loss of love of which I had no control.
Then there are the happy scars. Like one from both my Cesarean Sections after my baby boys were born. The stretch marks the pregnancies left on my stomach (okay ,well those I could do without..LOL!) or the scar on my arm that appeared after jumping into the pool after my oldest to rescue him from drowning in the deep end.
To you, these may look like imperfections, to me it's what doesn't kill you makes you stronger and I'm grateful for every one because it makes me who I am today. ;0)
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