Every scar I have makes me who I am.

I love scars, I find them fascinating, and always try to find a respectful way of kindly asking people how they got theirs. I have a scar on my knee that upset me so much at the time, since I was modelling and thought it would affect my bookings, apart from feeling dis-figured. However I now consider it beautiful, it has healed nicely and is a wonderful reminder of a dear friend as I was helping her when I got it. Marjorie was 93 years old and despite her crippling osteoporosis was still twinkling like the star she was and full of many amazing stories of her rich experiences. She found it difficult to leave her flat due to her painful bones and I would visit her to exchange tales; my present day dramas about love, work, friendship & family; and her memories of a bygone era and growing up in the war. We would sit there with our tea (me) and gin (she), literally crying with laughter as we shared our thoughts on life and womanhood in our respective era’s 70 years apart.

When Marjorie became ill, she stopped eating because her medication made her feel nauseas, and as I realised it was because she was taking her tablets on an empty stomach I would try to encourage her to eat and overcome the problem. It’s very difficult to convince someone when they have made their mind up that at their ripe old age it was probably time to leave this mortal coil. Marjorie was quite a fussy eater, but she did like sweets, so I started making her Jelly, and leaving it in her fridge, hoping to find evidence of mouthfuls missing the next day. Once I dropped a big glass bowl in her kitchen, it bounced on the counter and fell towards me, so that I instinctively caught it against my legs before it fell to the floor. Unfortunately I caught it, unfortunately the bowl had broken on the first bounce, unfortunately it was summer and my legs were bare as I was wearing shorts. Fortunately I saw a lovely doctor who patched me up remarkably, and I now have a lovely reminder of a friend who shared so many of her wonderful memories with me before she passed away, but long after she had got better from the meds of the jelly incident. She was a wonderful woman, and I am still very grateful for the friendship we shared.

Mine is only a small scar from a minor incident, but I wonder if you have any scars that are special reminders too, maybe of some trauma or life saving operation? I bet they’re beautiful. Do you celebrate them too? Blessings, Hxx

{Photo sadly uncredited, Words ~Hayley Darby 17.July.2011}

4 thoughts on “Every scar I have makes me who I am.

  1. I call my scars my “smiles”. Starting with my neck, and ending with my heal, they are fine, faded white lines of life lived and cancer survived.

  2. My favorite scar, is the one I got on my hand, which I had cut on glass…..but I was running through the field to pick some pussy willows, when I tripped and fell on broken glass, only 2 stitches, but it always reminds me of care-free times.

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