Healing

 "As I sat staring in the mirror this afternoon, I couldn't help but wonder how people view me. I haven't always been comfortable in my own skin, but I have grown accustom to the way I look. Each morning, a full head of matted blond hair greets me as I rub the sleep from my eyes and run a toothbrush over my slightly crooked teeth. My fingers trace the scar on my cheek as I scrub away the blah of night and attempt to invigorate, refresh, brighten or whatever the cream-of-the-week is promising me. I am familiar with the face that stares back at me now. For awhile, I got hung up on that blasted cheek. Whenever I stood in front of a mirror, that scar was the first place my eyes would go. And the story was the same whenever I was having a conversation with anyone: the husband, my kiddos, a friend. Without realizing it, their eyes would drift from mine to the right side of my face. The scar did not define me, but it shifted the focus to imperfections. I had to know if those imperfections were what they saw in me too. What was I reflecting?"

I found the paragraph above in drafts from November 2009. I never posted it. It's a bit deep for my mood tonight and kind of rambly, but important for me to share it. I had surgery to remove a little bit of skin cancer in July 2009. I hated the ugly scarring on my check for a long time, certain it would not fade. The scar is hardly visible now. Staring in the mirror two years ago, you could not have convinced me that I would have to squint to see a scar while staring in the mirror today. As with most things in life, time heals everything. But that is only a lesson we realize after time has passed. With each new trial, each new tragedy, that is as lesson that must be relearned.