“Yes,' said Dumbledore. 'He'll have that scar forever.'
'Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?'
'Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in useful. I have one myself above my left knee which is a perfect map of the London underground."- J.K. Rowling
I am feeling pensive today as I prepare for our Christmas Eve celebrations. This year marks the 25th year that we have hosted Christmas Eve dinner for our family, both those we are connected to by blood and those we chose. We are a very small group this year - two of the ten who would have been at the table tonight have been sidelined by the flu. I can remember a year we were fourteen at the table, but we have dwindled in these last years.
I've been struggling this Christmas with a marked decrease in energy and a general sense of malaise. I have been thinking about other Christmases when I was struggling with major health issues - most especially about the Christmas of 2005 when I was facing a second cancer surgery on the first working day in January. I tried hard to put a good face on that year. I'm trying hard again this year, though my heart surgery is not scheduled until the second week of January. I'm hoping I have more lives than a cat.
It's not just the big things that have been occupying my mind though. It's also the silly, small things that I've been struggling to reconcile. I've never been a great beauty but the one thing I have had going for me is flawless skin - at least the skin on my face. My body is so scarred from multiple surgeries that it looks a bit like a road map, but I digress. Last August, while sitting in a lakeside chair playing cards with my friends, I was swarmed by tiny gnats. They bit my face in many places, and I reacted badly enough to the bites to send me to the emergency room on the Labour Day weekend. Eventually, the swelling subsided and the bites healed, all except for five tiny bites which were in a vertical zigzagged row on my forehead. They healed but they left me with an angry red scar down the center of my forehead. I have tried all forms of creams and lotions to fade the scar with no success. I try to cover it now with makeup, but even then, it tends to show through. So much for my flawless skin. It is more annoyance than a problem, but I'm vain enough that it bothers me. It looks like the scar that Harry Potter has on his forehead.
I am a huge Harry Potter fan. I've read the books many times and watched the movies over and over again. This morning as I was once again grumbling to myself about the stupid scar on my forehead, I started thinking about the part of Harry's story where Dumbledore explained to him why he had the scar. When attacked by Voldemort, Harry was protected by his mother's love. It left him scarred but when he looks at that scar, he could always see the evidence of his mother's love. I've decided that is the way I'm going to look at my own scar now. I will sit at the table tonight, in my beautiful home with my wonderful family, surrounded by love. I may be scarred but love is all the protection that I need. Merry Christmas.
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