a bookmarked page (p.17)
“Bookmark - n. (bo͝ok′märk′)
a marker for finding a place in a book”
-Merriam Webster dictionary
“Leopoldine with Book of Hours” painting
by Auguste de Chatillon
I woke this morning, and as I rose from bed, I caught a glance at my childhood scar on my leg. I instantly remembered my bike spill where I landed on a rock in my grandmother’s field.
It’s interesting how our scars work. We catch a glance at them, and we remember how we got them. No discomfort or pain, just the scar, and its story.
It made me think of the challenges I have faced in life. I remember these stories too. I am not reminded with a physical scar, but certain things will instantly have me flip back through the pages to that very chapter.
The key is the story I retell myself from those bookmarked pages. The plot and characters never change over time, but the theme seems to evolve. And the more pages that I have written since, the richer the theme becomes.
Each challenge has influenced how my book is written. I would never think of hardships as gifts. No…not gifts or lessons. That just seems cruel to me. No, they are bookmarks that hold their place in my story. They have left imprints upon my heart. And sometimes, these imprints allow me to see other books with the same chapter. Maybe, if I am lucky, I can share wisdom or advice that only one who has walked the same path could know… or understand enough to just sit silently side by side.
Our lives are made up of experiences that shape who we are. I hope the stories we tell about our scars are no longer painful, we share with those who might need them, and we are ever so proud of who we are because of them. ❤️
