I burnt my hand this afternoon.
I mean, why did I have to and do a stupid thing like that? I’ve got enough blog material to last a century, but it seems each week, some new tragedy rears its ugly head and jumps unashamedly to the top of the subject queue.
It came into contact with the metal grill at the top of the oven when I was placing a Pyrex dish inside. Yes, I know I should have known it was red hot, but its a new oven and I thought those metal bits at the top were just for when the grill’s on. Nevertheless, I accidentally knocked the side of my hand right into it and my skin when from brown to white. Michael Jackson would have been proud of me.
After applying lavender oil and half a packet of frozen peas, I looked at the damage and thought back to when I was 9 and had a similar nasty burn to the same hand. I was pouring boiling water into a hot water bottle and an air bubble caused it to overflow onto me.
Bad scalds always cause interstitial fluid to gather under the skin and in minutes, I had this large, round, wobbly bubble rolling around my hand. My mum refused to drain it and made me go to school like this, so I spent the next two days trying to avoid people, and answering endless questions about’ what on earth had I done’. Each enquiry came with a recoiling and screwed up eye. It looked gross and I felt like a monster.
Coming back to the present day, I realised that I had secretly resented my mum for making the wrong decision in sending me to school with a lurgie I couldn’t shake off and feeling like a leper.
But now, being a parent myself, it hit me that mums and dads make mistakes – many -simply because they are human.
I too, have made a large amount of wrong choices while raising Sarah and now I know that my mother was simply doing what she though was best for me.
So I’m grateful for the new wound, despite how painful and ugly. I feel that a bit of ugliness has been removed from my spirit because I have released my mother from the resentment I held for so long and that in turn, has freed me.