I have 2 visible scars I hope will never fade. The first is from about a week before he passed... we were messing around in bed, and something scratched my stomach... I teased him he owned me big time, he scarred me for life. I never realized how true that statement would become. It was a simple scratch across my stomach, but it has remained discoloured, and permanent. Then about a week after he passed a I tripped coming in the door... my kids saw me, and yes it hurt, but even more I was embarrassed... I laughed. It was the first time I truly laughed since he had passed. There was only one mark, a bruise on my arm, with a small scratch inside it, and the scratch again has become discoloured and permanent. All growing up I hated my scars, I think because I always scarred so easily. He loved his... Never missed an opportunity to share how he got them, a trait I am glad our son has.
Scars are like everything else in life, and opportunity to learn, and a reminder. A wise friend told my daughter that losing her father was like a wound, for a while it will hurt continually, but eventually heal, but the scab is easily scratched for a while and the hurt comes back, but eventually it will scar, never completely healing, but easier to deal with the pain.
He left many marks on me... and I don't think some of them will heal for a long time. Most of these being my guilt. I have made myself sick with regret about things I may have done to prevent this, but I have to realize I can't dwell on that... we have 4 children to raise, and I need to be at my best for them, but tearing myself down at every opportunity to torture myself with an unchangeable past.
I have to cling to the hope that I will see him again, we will be together again, and my scars will eventually not be so painful.
