Scars

If you haven't ever read this blog, take a few minutes to check it out. Lovely pictures, a darling family, down-to-earth perspective on life, and a woman who was in a terrible plane crash last year, now living every day with reminders of that close encounter with death. She is one amazing girl.

She recently posted a picture of her leg, with the thin, burned skin and it hit closer to home that I thought it would, and left me weepy. I thought back to the day that I was burned--not nearly like she was, but it still sucked--and I cringed at the thought of the pain and the recovery period that was so awful.

But I also thought of two young men, probably in their early twenties, who happened to be walking down the sidewalk in front of the house where I was burned. They ran over to help and, as I went in and out of consiousness, were there until I was rushed off to the hospital. I wondered if they still think about that and wonder what on earth happened to that poor girl who was run over by her own car (that part is so embarassing). I think I would remember something like that. I wish I could thank them for their help.

And while I still hate my scars, and when one of my kids leans on my arm too hard, or uses my thigh as a stepping stool (more when they were toddlers than now, thankfully) and I almost go through the ceiling it hurts so much, I will be grateful for the softer, more compassionate feelings it has taught me to have. I am so impressed by NieNie, and her sweet attitude that puts mine to shame.

Mental checklist note: ramp up that 'attitude of gratitude'!