“It has been said, ‘time heals all wounds.’ I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.” ― Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy

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I have noticed lately all of the physical scars I have. One from the hip surgery, two from having pressure point sores, and there are those that I cannot tell you how they happened.

Then, there are those scars that cannot be seen with the human eye. Scars of mental wars, those that were caused by the lost of loved ones, some caused by betrayal, and then there are those scars that have been self-inflicted. I must admit some of those scars no longer bring about mental anguish anymore. They are just there as a reminder of things I have endured over my sixty years.

I like to think that my scars have not molded me, that they do not define me, but that would not be truthful. The death of my maternal grandfather opened a new door, one that would have me sit in front of a piano and work feverishly to make it sound like good music. The death of a second cousin, two years older than myself, caused by falling off scaffolding while working on a barn. The preacher’s open line of the eulogy, “Life Is Not Fair“!

It is because of those invisible scars that I can be thankful for every day, every moment, and every thing that comes my way.

I have that invisible scar that was created by an suicide attempt. This scar makes me want to get out of bed every morning. It is a reminder how that life can be fleeting like a whisper of smoke.

So dear reader, do scars have an impact on your life? Have they help shaped you into the person you now are? I would like to hear your replies about those invisible scars!