SCAR

Scar

Scars from playing baseball on my left leg just above the ankle where I was spiked by an opposing  player.  Scar on my chin from playing basketball. Scars on my right and left knees from knee replacement surgery. Scar on my left hip from hip replacement surgery. Scar across my belly from abdominal surgery.

I have deep scar on my soul, heart and mind from committing adultery, divorcing my wife and separating from my three daughters in 1969. The scabs over the self-inflicted wounds have healed. But not a day  goes by when I don’t feel the scars from the sin and I sense ribbons of guilt fleetingly in my heart.

I don’t want the scars to go away. I like the gentle reminders of my fragility as I have lived a strong and wonderful married life for almost thirty-eight years. My daughters now, in their sixties, love and care for me. My former wife has died. 

The scars remind me of the happy years with my young family of long ago. I remember the birth of each child and their baptisms. I presided  at their weddings. I am grandfather of now young adult women and men. Any nine months from now I could be a great-grandfather.

Our marriage flourishes as we live close yet free with each other. We tell the truth even though sometimes it hurts and is frightening. I can discuss my scars with my wife and she is not threatened by my past behaviour. My scars and guilt are part of our marriage. We are the stronger because we have no secrets and are vulnerable with each other. Love and trust give us even more love.