5.16.2012

A Torn Page From My Diary...

...because sometimes, happiness is found in reliving the pain.

A long time ago, I believe it was in 8th grade; I dislocated my left thumb and never went to the doctor to get it properly replaced. It’s an old injury that I rarely think about, but then, when it’s bended just right, I feel the aching in that joint. It’s not a sharp pain; but rather dull and almost non-existent, but a pain nonetheless. It always startles me when I feel it. Just when I’ve almost forgotten all about it, I do something silly such as pick up a coffee mug awkwardly, grip too tight while opening a jar of jam, or any other simple movement that agitates that joint. Normal things really. But it’s in those ordinary moments that something happens to make me once again feel the pain. The injury was never a gaping, open wound. No surgery was necessary for it to properly function again. Yet, the pain is still present. I tried to take care of the injury myself, and because of that, it has never properly healed.

It reminds me of you; my thumb --an old injury, that most days, never crosses my mind. Then something happens that reminds me –a mother calling her child after the same name in the grocery store, the curve of a stranger’s forehead, a laugh –and the pain returns. Dull, almost nonexistent, but there nonetheless. Again, it startles me how unexpectedly everything returns. I can feel, smell, hear everything I once loved. Perhaps, those remembrances are the things I still do.

The pain used to bother me. I used to regret never seeing a doctor to get my thumb properly reset. But it was an injury no one else could see. It seemed so easy to fix myself and simply move on. At first, the pain was unbearable. Thankfully, I have always had a high tolerance for pain. It was easy to repress.

I’ve learned that it’s too late for me to fix. The pain will always be there. Like the phantom pain of an amputee it is an ache I’ll always feel. Yet, I’ve learned to live with it. I’ve even learned to enjoy it. Like the breeze on a hot day or a drop of water after a long drought, it reminds me that I’m alive. I feel –even the most subtle aches, I feel.

And for that, I am grateful.

2 comments:

Angie said...

Beautiful....thank you for sharing!

MaLee said...

Very well written Danielle. Thank you.