Seeing a Stranger
As I extracted myself from the shower as I do most mornings I looked to my right and saw a stranger looking back at me.
Who is this man in his 50’s? Wrinkles around his eyes, a stooping posture and most of the muscle tone missing as of late. That stranger was me; where has the man of my youth gone?
Things are always hurting more, it’s harder to see at night, my memory is a bit foggier and I just plum get tuckered out a lot quicker these days. But as I study myself in the mirror, I start to realize that each wrinkle, gray hair, scar and pain has specific memories tied to them, some good and some bad.
The wrinkles around my eyes and face are from many years of laughing and enjoying great experiences and a few are from heartache.
The gray hairs are from years of experience and showcase wisdom I have learned over time and just a few over worrying. I have a twelve inch scar on the back of my right leg from just above my calf leading into the back of my thigh. When I was just a youngster, my brothers and I were very mischievous and this particular scar came from climbing on top of the rec center to retrieve a ball. Coming down, I slipped atop a ten-foot fence with spikes on top and the spikes caught the backside of my thigh flipping me over and creating a gash going down my leg. As I hunged there screaming, my older brother rushed to get me off. I remember lying across my mom’s lap on the way to the emergency room and I knew everything would be okay because my mom was there holding me and telling me to hush, I was ok.
Some might think this was a bad memory but it’s a mixture of good and bad, I suppose. It is a constant reminder of all the fun summers I had with my brothers when I was younger and all the fun times and, yes, mischievous times we had as well.
Sometimes getting into a bit of trouble taught lessons that were best learned at an early age. This particular scar tied my older brother and mom together in a memory that I always hold fondly in my heart.
Not all scars, wrinkles and gray hairs are a bad thing. What are some memories you have that caused a wrinkle or scar?
Today I wear my wrinkle and gray hair as a badge of honor and wouldn’t change a thing. Our experiences are what makes us who we are, good or bad.
I no longer see a stranger in the mirror, I see a different version of myself, an older wiser version but still that young child of my youth that still yearns to make fun memories in the summer and, yes, get into a little mischief at times, within the law of course.
This is Will B saying, don’t be afraid to grow old, enjoy your wrinkles and scars as you fondly remember what caused them.