Memorial Day Weekend: Here’s a thought from yesterday…
My mom was planting her garden today, so after my 3 mile walk around Hastings Rd, which lends itself to beautiful views of the hills and farms of Washington Cty, I dug in the dirt and helped plant potatoes, peas or beans (can’t recall which), cucumbers, broccoli, tomatoes, zucchini, and corn. To spend from 10am to 2:30 pm with my mom under the big blue sky and warm sun was the most therapeutic experience I have had in a long time. Red cardinals cut through the sky, red-winged blackbirds called from the power lines, and a robin accompanied us on our MGD Gold 64 break. Where is the willful rebellion in this enchanted scene? We didn’t wear SUNSCREEN. Not a lick of it. And I loved all the warmth and burn that I felt accumulating. We paused and considered. There was sunscreen in the house. We could go put some on. But instead, I finished the perfect mounds over each symmetrical row of potatoes.
We decided to rebel. We were sick of perfection. So what if we burned.
It spawned a discussion on scars and wrinkles, imperfections of all kinds. Mom said she thinks scars are something to be proud of. They show you made it, you lived, and you came out on the other side of a battle. So F yeah, we’re not perfect! Or you! There’s enchanted grit to the men and women who have some scars to talk about. It becomes wearisome to always perfect, protect, and correct everything in the hyper drive to make our selves flawless. So I’m not gonna worry about intense sunburn lines. I’m going out without makeup on and rock this burn! YEAH!