Scars

An interesting thing happened when I was able to put on my favorite sandals, the comfy, yet sassy looking ones, that never go out of style...well, I was able to put them on this week. I almost forgot about them. They were buried underneath all the shoes from two years ago. Last year, after foot surgery on both feet(how DID the doctor talk me into that one?), I wore a boot for most of May and June, and moved into flats with little socks, but open toed shoes were a no-no. Anyone who knows me, knows that sandal season begins in March and ends in October (hence, probably the whole toe problem to begin with)! Anyway, I didn't wear any of them last year, so this year, I gave it a try. I have had to be very careful and cautious with these feet since that surgery, but somehow, lo and behold, this year, I can wear my favorites! And be somewhat comfortable, really. I have had to learn, very slowly I might add, that comfort has to win over cute and trendy...the 50's aren't always pretty.

As I slid into the shoes last week, I noticed that my feet do not look like they did, even two years ago. Toes are changing and things are happening that indicate "old lady feet" are not that far away. There was a time that would have done me in...again, beautiful toes was my one virtue. That's all changed, and as I looked at my feet in the shoes, comfy and all, I had to admit that the scars are still quite obvious, that there are movements that cannot be made, that in spite of my own foot therapy, the scar is there. And I think the scar will be there a long time. And I'm okay with it, really, I am just glad I can wear sandals and that I can walk, thank you, God.

But the scar made me think of the internal scar from grief. That the pain that came from two little toes for this whole year is really nothing compared to the pain that comes, inside, from losing my child in this lifetime. It dawned on me, how can they heal all at once? How can just a couple of years take away the damage, the piercing, the shock, the pain, the disbelief, the trauma, the gut-wrenching emotion that rattles my inner self, my bones, my head, my jaw, my heart, my soul?

Scars heal. Time sees to it. Physical therapy sees to it. Massaging with oils sees to that. Bending, taping, movement sees to that. My foot scars are only beginning to heal, barely, so, what does that say about the inner scars that no one sees? No one feels? No one knows? I am convinced, more than ever, that everything and anything needed to be done, should be done, to heal the internal scar. Someday, like putting on the sandals that I feel comfortable in, maybe I will be comfortable in my own skin, and I will know, I am healing. I am getting better. I have a long way to go, but it will be done, and while I will never be the same, I will adjust and accept that things will never be the same. In time, in God's grace, and His time, not mine, I will be whole again.