“Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real.”
― Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses
We were at the fair yesterday, me and the kids - and I grabbed Bodie's hand to try to keep him from running away from me. I looked down at his little hand, seeing the light glinting off his little hands and wrists. And once again I saw the faint lines on his wrists, a nonchalant reminder of so, so many hospital stays.
An untrained eye probably wouldn't even look for them, let alone know what they were if they saw them. But a parent who has been there knows. A parent who has held tiny hands connected to tubes and wires. I see the tiny lines. And I remember the cuts that made them. The cuts that brought life-saving drugs into my child's body, time and time again.
They're cut-down lines. At least I think that's the term (or maybe not - but I heard it somewhere in reference to his lines). Whatever it's called, it's where iv's and lines have been placed and removed. Bodie has them in his wrists, in his groin, in his neck. Heck, probably other places I've never thought to look. But his wrists are the most prominent.
Everyone knows about Bodie's central incision scar, and his chest tubes (those honestly are worse than the central incision!) and pacemaker scar. And, thanks to consistent use of doTERRA essential oils and good ole fashioned time, they're looking pretty darn awesome.
But it occurred to me as I looked at his wrists that he has so many other scars that aren't so obvious. The tiny marks on his wrists, neck, shoulder and groin. The ones on the inside - where his heart has been broken and mended, where it has been cauterized chasing an arrhythmia that wouldn't be caught. The ones on his mind, on his soul. The ones we can't see, but we're trying fervently to help him heal. Nothing like going in blind, right?
So.Many.Scars on Such.A.Little.Body.
We leave tomorrow morning for Boston, to take the next step in working on healing some of the scars we can't see.
Tonight at dinner, we talked about it. And Bodie looked all over his body, trying to find more scars. And we talked about what scars are - just proof of something he has battled, something he BEAT.
We'll take that any day.
And besides, chicks dig scars.
Thank goodness for that.