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Scars are a great place to store your memories. It’s cheaper than renting a self-storage unit and less messy than cluttering up your garage with a bunch of sentimental stuff.
Sure, the stuff may remind you of a person or a bygone era, but if it really meant that much to you you’d let it live in the house with the rest of your belongings.
Instead, you’ve relegated it to a life of cobwebs, dust and, since we’re being sentimental, a life of loneliness, too. Not cool.
A Short Story About a Scar
When I was 18 I took up a friend’s offer to sell bodyboards at the coast. It sounded like the perfect to way to spend my end of year vacation and earn a little Christmas pocket money at the same time.
Halfway to our destination a car crash left me with my head split open and my friend’s daughter without a mother.
When I arrived home the following day Dad took my face in his hands and kissed me on both cheeks. Not one for showing emotion, he caught me off guard with this very public display of affection. (We were still at the airport.)
In the days that followed Mom took care of me in the loving way she always had. But it was Dad who drove me to Jill’s funeral and Dad who sat with me in church. (Again, completely out of character.)
Side note: If you haven’t seen it, The Light Between Oceans is worth a gander.
Finding the Positive
My scar is hidden beneath my hair, but if it wasn’t I’d wear it proudly. I could easily view it in a negative light —for a long time I actually did— but now I’ve chosen to focus on the positive in it instead.
My father was funny, quirky and prone to bouts of ill-temperedness. Not an easy man to live with or love. My scar reminds me that he felt so much more than he ever showed or said.
If you want to let go of your attachment to sentimental stuff, one of the easiest ways to do that is to find other places to store your memories. Looking to your scars for inspiration may be a bit of a stretch, I get that. But give it a try anyway.
If you can’t get your head around the idea, then see if you can come up with other ways to store your memories. One way I like to remember my Mom, for example, is by stopping whenever I see a bakery.
She had an in credibly sweet tooth and cake was a huge favourite of hers. Sporty and I always take a moment to play the ‘what would mom choose’ game and it never fails to delight and uplift us both.
With this approach I’m not reliant on some inanimate object to remind me of my Mom, she’s everywhere there’s cake. How awesome is that?