Elbow Scars

The other day, I was washing my hands in the restroom at work when I noticed in the mirror, the reflection of a light scar on my right elbow. It’s subtle, but it surprised me. I got the scar in June, playing Four Square with a tennis ball in a carpeted meeting room at a college campus. I don’t remember if I saved the ball or not.

While the carpet burn did hurt, I was surprised to see the evidence of the event on my arm and I was hit with a twinge of nostalgia. Because some day, this scar will fade. Just like the gnarly one I wore on my stomach for years after slipping off a frozen waterfall. What remains are the memories. The way my friend tumbled after me on the waterfall. The way my friends and I laughed until our sides hurt playing Four Square. 

Someday my elbow scar will fade and I don’t want to lose the memory with it. I want to hold onto the feeling and those moments and the living, breathing, tangible people who have made my life so rich because some day, I won’t be able to play Four Square with those people. Some day those memories will be just that—memories. 

So maybe this scar serves as a reminder to tell them I love them. To tell them they’ve made a difference. To not wait for a thing to fade to realize how beautiful it is.