One Tiny Scar
Making it through the day has been the on going struggle. Outwardly I seem strong and put together. There are moments I truly am. Mostly though I’m a mess. I can’t bring myself to put away any of how things. I can’t bring myself to change my world from the way it was when he was here. Putting things away means he’s really gone. Mostly though it’s easier to be surrounded by reminders of him. I’m expecting the reminders in prepared for the memories. It’s the moments that I’m not surrounded by him that the littlest of things will remind me of him and I’m hit with a freight train of emotions. Those are the moments I dread. Those are the moments I crumble. Tonight it was a scar. Just a tiny little centimeter long white line. I had glanced down at my foot and couldn’t take my eyes off it. I had been playing soccer with friends and our dogs. I was off course wearing nothing but flip flops and went to kick the ball at the same time Renegade lunged at it. We were both so shocked that it happened. He was terrified when he saw the blood, the look of worry in his eyes. I was so worried about him I didn’t even notice what was happening. Did I hurt him? Was his mouth okay? Did I break on of his teeth? Where was the blood coming from? I couldn’t understand why he kept nursing me and trying to get away from my grasp while I tried to look him over. Then I saw what he saw. My foot. It was my blood. It didn’t hurt, not really. It just kept bleeding. I remember breaking the cut back open several times before it ever fully healed. Tonight, in that moment, looking at that scar brought it all back again. The fun. The laughter. The panic. Just one tiny scar brought me to tears.
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