Scars

               I heard a song by a bluegrass group the other day.  The premise of the song was that the scars we carry, physical and emotional, are the evidence of our lives.  The singer reflected on some of his scars and how he got them, and what he learned in the process.

               Like anyone would, I think, I started thinking about the stories behind my scars.

               The two earliest scars I got, and still have, include one above my upper lip that was the result of getting hit there with a rock, thrown by another kid.  He and I, both about six years old, thought it was a good idea to throw stones at each other.  We learned that it was not a good idea.

               The second is a football shaped scar on my left foot which was the result of riding my tricycle without shoes on, in violation of one of Mom’s rules.  My foot slipped off the pedal and into the little tricycle spokes.  Lesson learned.

               A couple of years later I had a bicycle related incident involving a bumpy path and the crossbar on my bike making contact with a certain part of my body.  I can’t talk about that scar.

               Over the years many more scars were gathered.  There are two that I really cherish – one under my left eye that resulted from a tumble I took when our dog, Toby, greeted me with a little too much enthusiasm as I walked across the yard when he was young.  The other is from a scratch on my arm that I got from Toby during his last couple months with us.  We were playing, and he miscalculated how close I was.  I’m happy to have both of those.

               One I’m not that happy about is on my forehead, and it is the result of walking into a beam.  As a tall person I hit my head way too often, but this was the only one to leave a scar.

               Emotional scars?  We all have them, I guess.  Most of mine are because of missed opportunities to do the right thing, doing the wrong thing, or the people who aren’t here anymore who I miss.

               As the song points out – and I think it’s true – the people we become results from the healed injuries much more than from the joys.  It’s not easy to imagine that those wounds have an upside when they happen, but time and reflection shows that many of them do.