FENDER SCRAPE

FENDER SCRAPE

By: Darrelyn L. Tutt

Remember when you took a fall off your bike as a kid and you got a bad gravel scrape on your knee? Little sand pebbles stuck to the top of warm, wet traces of blood and light skid marks drove themselves into your kneecap?
You've now got a picture of my left front fender.
My vanilla Caddy got a wee bit of a knee scrape on account of my great exciteability.
The wonderful cause and blame of the scrape was my son. Ha.
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On a recent trip to his home, I happened through a nearby town where Josh happened to be fueling up his work truck. I caught a glimpse of him in my rearview mirror, wheeled around, and made an immediate and sudden beeline for him.
I got right up near the pump attending him and got so focused on my mission of seeing him that I bumped into the "island" securing the pumps.
Oh well and whatever ... worse things have happened.
It certainly didn't put a damper on my enthusiasm and was a source of great amusement to both my son and his working partner in the happening.
I burst out of the car like a jack-in-the-box and my son picked me up, hugged me hugely, and in great amusement greeted me. For my son, this has become somewhat of a standard protocol with his mom. I have no doubt, I made an unforgettable impression on his humored working partner.
"Looks like you got yourself in a little scrape, Mom," Josh said good-naturedly as he walked over and looked at my fender.
He then reassured his humored partner that all was well and I was a "high energy" sort of individual who got a wee bit over-excited about seeing her boy.
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Mmmm ...
Sometimes accidents happen because of excitement.
Sometimes scrapes and bumps are ours because we didn't stop soon enough or land soft enough.
But as to loving big enough ... of that there is no question.
Sometimes we do everything just right and with the best of intentions and we still have to deal with little scrapes and scratches along the way.
Bumps, scratches, and scrapes are all part of loving bigly in my book.
Since I'm an individual defined by drive and passion, it only stands to reason that an experience of "loving" might bear some notable marks requiring patch-ups, fixings, and maybe even a trip to the paint shop sometime later.
It's okay by me.
I never want to stop loving or being my best me.
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As to my Caddy ...
The remnants of the scrape remain on my front fender.
It's been washed, cleaned, and buffed and the "red island" paint no longer can be seen.
But the scratches in gray still remain.
Maybe I'll keep them.
Maybe I won't.
For right now they simply remind me of the way that I love.
Soul scrapes are sometimes the most beautiful scrapes we leave behind.
And for this ... I offer no apology.
Fender Scrape.
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"There is no passion to be found playing small, in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living."
-Nelson Mandela