A wound is raw
A scab is tender I resent my limited mobility and the extra precautions I take
while waiting for the scar to provide durability
My scars may open up
So I suppose they are more like scabs than scars
because they will open up
from time to time and unexpectedly
But the intensive care is behind me
No longer do I fear infection, nor acute danger
I haven't for a while
Beyond the seeping wounds and fragile scabs I discovered relief Oh, was it a beautiful relief!
For I didn't even know that feeling was possible
But scar tissue was visible
and the worst was behind me
And this relief birthed an unbridled desire to live again
But I quickly began To resent my scars I resented and cursed the scars on my heart I felt discomfort just looking at them
And it's important that you know,
it's not because of my son's dy-ing (I needed no reminding, it's my baby who died.)
My scars mostly reminded me of the painful moments
my son's death brought
Torment and despair
Feeling naked and alone and afraid
Wearing a scarlet letter of pain
My scars took me back to that place
where my heart was broken-open,
vulnerable and exposed to the world
My scars reminded me
that others won't see me as normal
or capable
Nobody will push me
and
People will pity me
and
They will claim my joy must be fake
My scars spoke the world's voice to me...
I must be damaged goods
I will never be the same
(I like the new me better.) I tried to be positive
and focus on what I knew to be true...
My devastation had stripped ME away And this demolishing had created a clear path
for Spirit to speak through me I knew this was true,
Miraculous
Wondrous
But I still didn’t like my scars
Even after I took the band-aids off and opened up to life I resented my new status I wanted to hide my scars
This morning I wake to a new dawn, A new phase in my journey, I suppose Spirit is amazing, and all glory be to God Today I can also say, I am amazing too
“My son has died” I feel a new emotion behind these words today I am proud of myself I am proud of myself! I am grateful for resiliency for strength for the mining of my ego
Devastation gave me all of these gifts, these treasures, these gems!
Can I tell you about my son? Can I tell you that he died? It may make you sad, you may pity me But today that’s okay with me So can I tell you my amazing story? Oh yes, I have to tell you my son didn’t really die That is the most glorious part of all, my mission he left me I share this with the world!
But today, my friend, Can I tell you of the devastation I have been through? Can I tell you I am grateful for it? I am not damaged goods I am a woman now unafraid of pain I am a woman more compassionate I am a woman who can listen to the broken
I am among the least of these
And
I am a wonder woman I have faced my biggest fears I have walked through darkness
with my eyes wide open I have lived in the valley of the shadow of death
I have pleaded for this earth to swallow me whole
to escape the pain
And I am still standing
Strong Can I show you my scars?
If not, that's okay
But I am proud of them now Maybe you’ll remember my story when life delivers destruction
Maybe you will take my virtual hand
to hold for strength
My son is proud of me, he has shown me every step of the way But today I am proud of me too
My scars honor me
My scars acknowledge the hardest work I have ever done
My scars represent overcoming
and my scars represent pain,
Pain that shaved the outer me away
to expose my core
I am grateful for my scars
My scars represent
the Triumph of my Soul
(I searched for a photo appropriate for this post. This was a challenge because I have focused on hope... I don't have photos of my difficult times. This photo struck me when I found it. I took this photo of Perry's younger brother, Jonas, while we were eating out for the first time as a family of four. This was the first time we were asked, "how many...?" and the first time one of us had to answer "4". It took everything in me to choke back until I could release in a more private setting... This photo and the sentiment on the cup seemed to be fitting for this post, for such a time as this. Every piece of our story is important.)