I don’t think I’ll ever grow up. I’m fairly immature and still enjoy childish things.
For example, I took Kamden (our now 10 year old) to the top of a big hill to ride her plasma car back down. Not on separate cars, however. That wouldn’t be any fun.
Both of us were barefoot. We were flying down that hill. It was a blast. Until we had to make a hard right turn into our driveway.
The combined weight (let’s be honest it was me not Kamden) caused us to skid and almost tip instead of turn. When we were tipping, Kamden instinctually put her left foot down on the pavement.
Her foot became the wedge between the concrete and the fully loaded plasma car going 20mph. It ripped off a massive chunk of her skin and burned her foot pretty badly.
Dad of the year.
She cried and I was in shock. Not to mention about to faint. I don’t do well with blood and burned flesh.
I had an extra dose of shame and embarrassment as Brooke realized what happened. Not fun.
However, as time healed her foot and left a scar, this moment has become a unique bonding story for the two of us.
We’ve told this story to countless people in many settings. She’s now proud of the scar on the top of her foot as it points to a time when she and her dad did something carefree and crazy. It also tells of her strength and bravery.
Our scars tell our stories.
Physical or emotional scarring at the time is painful. Often it feels unnecessary and pointless. But all of these scars tell a story.
We are all dealing with metaphoric open wounds. But hang on. It will turn into a scab and eventually a scar. And that scar can be used to tell a story that will strengthen you and benefit others.
Kamden used to be embarrassed by her scar, but now she wears it as a badge of honor. The hard stuff can tell a beautiful story.