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We were visiting my mother several years ago and in the course of the conversation I happened to mention the scar on the back of my head. I had just gotten a haircut — I still had a full head of hair then — and mentioned that the barber nicked the scar. I’ve always had the scar and assumed it was a birth mark. Out of nowhere, my mom mentioned, “Oh, don’t you remember, that’s funny, you were little and fell off the monkey bars and the doctor worried about you having a skull fracture.”
Um, hello, say that again. Funny? Fractured skull?
Of course, my mom repeated the story, telling me that I was in kindergarten or first-grade and had reached the top portion of the monkey bars or some other type of a metal climbing apparatus, when I fell, landing hard on the ground on the back of my head. This was back in the Dark Ages when playground equipment was built with steal bars and safety was, let’s just say, an after-thought. I vaguely recall the fall and doing my best impersonation of Humpty Dumpty, the English nursery rhyme, but I can’t tell if the memory is real or if I just remember others talking about it. I get the impression that I put my parents through quite a scare.
Image by Mingche Lee via Pexels.
I write today about falls and scrapes in my post, That’s gonna leave a scar, on The Heart of The Matter. We fall, we get hurt. We get help, maybe it’s a bandage, maybe it’s something more. If we’re lucky, we heal and we move on. Sometimes though we get a permanent scar to remember the fall. I’ve come to believe that those scars teach us how to pick ourselves up and learn from our mistakes.
Check out my story and let me know what you think. What are some of the scars you’ve picked up over the years. Are they bad reminders or are you thankful for the lessons they’ve given you?
And oh yea, I’ve been writing in my series, Music On My Mind, about my appreciation for song and music. I’ll be getting back to that series starting tomorrow and have posts planned to run through Saturday.
I love it when our family members share tidbits that seem brand new…say what? Thanks for sharing, Brian! 😉
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She assumed I knew it. Umm, hello, that sounds serious, I think I would’ve known that. Ha, ha. Of course, I give her a hard time about that . . . especially since she teases me about my attempt to break out of Alcatraz and climb the concertina fence outside the apartment building. Ha, ha.
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Thanks for sharing a new word, too, amidst your fun story — ‘concertina’. Sounds so pretty…but really gnarly, too! 😉🤣😉
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Oh yes, gnarly is a good word too. One look and most people say “oh, that looks gnarly, I’ll walk to the front.” Ha, ha, not me.
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🤣🤣🤣
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Apparently you have an incredibly hard head… On a similar note I tripped into a door/brick wall combo. Only I know where the still small dent is 🙂
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Oh it’s a hard, stubborn skull for sure. Yes, I bet you can find that dent with no problems. Can probably feel it too. Ha, ha
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Good story! I have a weird thing about scars. i think they’re to be proud of and represent battle wounds and proof of being alive and living this life to the fullest. Not that I’m asking the universe for me to get more…let me make sure I put that out there… but the ones I have, I’m pretty proud of!
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I like that proof of living to the fullest. I like that. 🙂
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Wow, I’m’ glad that you don’t have a skull fracture, Brian! I’ve read about how the playground equipment that we grew up with is dangerous but we did survive! No helmets and in some cases, no seatbelts. I do wear a helmet when riding my eBike though, it’s common sense now.
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Yes, I guess that means I’m hard-headed or something like that. Or maybe just stubborn as an ox. Yes, the playground equipment was very strong metal/steel. It was on some grass, but I remember the climbing apparatus being very high. Now my memory is from a kid’s perspective, but still pretty high. No mulch or rubber landing. Just grass and hard-packed dirt. Ha, ha. I remember it being a good run too from the school, so if you fell you were on your own. I guess that’s why I don’t remember it. And yes, I feel pretty lucky. Could have bee worse!
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Your post took me back to elementary school where the playground had this tall structure that we called the Tower. A kid named Tim Green was unlucky enough to fall off of that tower and land on his back!
I don’t recall him being injured but that was so long ago. But, we were tough kids, weren’t we? I wiped out on my bicycles so many times doing jumps from ramps we built and hey, I’m 62 years young today! 😂
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Happy 62 and many more!
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Thanks, Brian! Actually, my birthday is in December. 🤭
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From my childhood, I still have memories of running down a set of basement steps one day, tripping, and hitting my head on a pipe before landing on the basement floor. Off to the ER for stitches. I don’t remember how much it hurt, but it must have hurt enough for me to not forget it happened!
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Wow, sounds like quite a tumble. The kind of fall I would make! 🤕🤕🤕😎
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I’m fascinated that you didn’t remember that or it didn’t come up as a story before a few years back. Maybe because it was scary?
I was racing a boy on my bike when I was 7 and fell off, splitting open my chin. My favorite memory from the incident was that my mom bought me a Twinkie for being brave while they stitched it up! 🙂
Love your HoTM post!
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You and me both Wynne. I would’ve thought it would’ve came up somewhere. I remember being in the hospital about the same time, but I always thought that was for my legs. I guess I was sore all over. Really I think they wanted to keep me for observation. In any event, my mother never brought up the hospital stay. Ha, ha.
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Ouch! I’m surprised you didn’t remember your family talking about it, if not the event itself. When we were young, my brother jumped off the top of the climbing tower onto cement holding onto an umbrella, Mary Poppins style. It didn’t work out.
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Oh, your brave brother, that’s something I would have tried. Oh silly boys.
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Scars tell stories. Makes a great writing prompt. 🌟 Those old playgrounds – many a “scar story” made there!
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I’m always looking for a good story. I guess I should be grateful for those scars! And you are so right about those old playgrounds. They were tough places to play! Ha, ha!
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I do love how insane older playgrounds were. Kids these days don’t know what they’re missing. I remember those crazy tire swings!!!
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Yes, it’s definitely changed from back in the day!
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As Vicki mentioned, it’s so fun to hear old family stories, especially when we’re the star! I had a playgound incident when I was about that age–I was pushing tire swing packed with kiddos and the whole thing came unhinged and a huge chunk of metal landed on my back and gave me a massive bruise. I never told my parents because I was terrified I would get in trouble! The old school playgrounds were the best.
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Wow, it sounds like that had to hurt. I remember things like that . . . not telling when I was worried about getting in trouble. Meanwhile, as the parent now, I would be so upset for my kid getting hurt and being in that situation. Ha, ha.
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It’s funny because I’m sure now I’m sure my parents would have been more worried about my being injured than breaking playground equipment, but I remember worrying about the park people garnishing my birthday money for the rest of my life.
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😝😝😝😎😎😎
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I too have scars from my past… But the fun fact is no one remembers where they came from… Coz I got too many of them… Still it’s nice to walk down the memory lane… Coz the scars itself have too many memories and smiles attached to it.
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Memory lane can be a fun place to visit. Just as long as we don’t stay too long. Ha, ha.
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